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COURT FARM. 


A NEW NOYEL 


BY MRS. HEMRY WOOD. 

AUTHOR OF “ EA.ST LYNNE,” “LORD OAKBURN’s DAUGHTERS,” “ VERNER’S PRIDE,” 
SQUIRE TREVLYN’S HEIR ; OR TREVLYN HOLD,” “THE SHADOW OF ASHLYDYAT,” 
“CHANNINGS,” “HAUNTED TOWER,” “OSWALD CRAY,” “LOST BANK NOTE,” 

“ castle’s HEIR ; OR LADY ADELAIDE’S OATH,’' “ FOGGY NIGHT AT OFFORD,” 

“A life’s SECRET,” “ THE RUNAWAY MATCH,” “MILDRED ARKELL,” 

“THE mystery; or ANNE HEREFORD,” “ WILLIAM ALLAIR,” 

“ST. martin’s eve,” “a light and a dark CHRISTMAS,’* 

“ ELSTER’S folly,” “ THE LOST WILL,” “ ORVILLE COLLEGE.” 


Printed from the author’s advanced Proof-sheets, purchased by us 
from Mrs. Henry Wood, and issued here simultaneously 
with the publication of the work in Europe. 


PHILADELPHIA; 

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS; 

306 CHESTNUT STREET. 



'b 


NOTE. 


The germ of this novel appeared in a short tale pub- 
lished by the author in a first-class periodical many 3^ears 
ago ; but she has now taken it up, enlarged the plot, 
and re-written and lengthened the whole, making the 
present volume a large as well as an entirely new novel; 
the only similarity being that the name given to the 
present novel is the same as was given to a short tale 
published by her many years ago. 



% 


'^'1 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter ^ Page 

I.— rnTRODUCTION" 21 

II. — ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE 30 

III. — CLARA lake’s DREAM 42 

IV. — THE ACCIDENT 54 

V. — RED OR GREEN 83 

VI. — JUSTICE THORNYCROFT’S VISIT 94 

VII. — GOING FISHING 107 

VIIL— CATCHING A CHILL 118 

IX. — COLOR BLINDNESS 134 

X. — MARY JUPP’S EXPLOSION 140 

XI. — THE DREAM WORKED OUT 161 

.a* 

XII. — COASTDOWN 173 

XIIL— WHAT WAS THE FEAR? 188 

XIV. — SUPERSTITIOUS TALES 204 

XV. — THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT 215 

XVI. — AT SCHOOL IN LONDON 231 

XVII.— CAPTAIN COPP 240 

XVIII. — ISAAC THORNYCROFT’S STRATAGEM 251 

XIX.— IN LOVE 261 

XX.— WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE 27.3 

XXI. — THE HALF-MOON BEACH 285 

XXII. — MY LADY AT THE RED COURT 301 

XXITI. — A LAST INTERVIEW '. 313 

XXIV. — THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING 326 

XXV.-r-SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS 341 

XXVI.— THE coroner’s INQUEST 354 

( 19 ) 


20 


CONTEN TS 


Chapter Page 

XXVIL— ROBERT HTJXTER’S FUNERAL 367 

XX-VIII. — CURIOUS RUMORS 377 

XXIX.— ROBERT hunter’s GHOST 387 

XXX. — ^IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH 396 

XXXI.— IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT 410 

XXXII. — LADIES DISPUTING 420 

XXXIII.— DISCLOSING IT TO JUSTICE THORNYCROFT 433 






/ 


KED COURT FARM. 


/ 


CHAPTER L 

INTRODUCTION'. 

On a certain portion of the English coast, lying sufficiently 
convenient to that of France to have given rise to whispers of 
smuggling in the days gone by, there is a bleak plateau of 
land, rising high above the sea. It is a venturesome feat to 
walk close to its edge and gaze down the perpendicular cliffs 
to the beach below — enough to make a strong man dizzy. A 
small beach just there, called the Halfmoon from its shape, 
nearly glosed in by the projecting rocks, and accessible only 
from the sea at high water ; at low water a very narrow path 
leads from it round the left projection of rock. It was a 
peculiar place altogether, this spot ; and it is necessary to 
make it pretty clear to the imagination of those who read the 
story connected with it. The Halfmoon itself was never 
•under water, for the tide did not reach it, but the narrow path 
winding round to the left was ; and that rendered the half- 
circular beach unapproachable by land at intervals in the 
four-and-twenty hours. A few rude steps shelved down from 
this Halfmoon to a small strip of lower beach underneath, 
whose ends were lost in the sea. The projecting rocks on 
either side, forming as may be said the corners of the Half- 
moon, went right into the sea. Those on your -right hand 
(standing face to the sea) cut off all communication with the 
shore beyond, for a depth of water touched them always. 
Those on the left extended less far out, and the narrow path 
winding round them was dry when the tide was down. It 
thus arose that the Halfmoon could be gained by this one 
narrow path only, or by a boat from the sea. 

For all practical purposes it might just as well have been 


22 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


unattainable. 'Not once in a month — nay, it might he said, 
not once in twelve months — would any human being stray 
thither. Not onl}^ was there no end to he answered in going 
to it, but the place was said to be haunted ; and the simple 
villagers around would sooner have spent the night watching 
ill the church’s vaults than have ventured to the Halfmoon 
beach between sundown and cockcrow. The most supersti- 
tious race of men on the earth’s surface are sailors ; and fisher- 
men partake of the peculiarity. 

Turning round on the plateau now — it is called the plateau 
just as the beach below is called the Halfrnoon — with our 
backs to the sea, we look inland. It is only the plateau that 
is high ; the coast itself and the lands around lie rather low. 
On the left hand (remember that our hands have been re- 
versed) a long line of dreary coast stretches onwards, not a 
habitation to be seen ; on the right lies the village — Coast- 
down. Fishermen’s huts are built on the side and top of the 
cliffs, not there so perpendicular ; small cottages dot the low- 
lying grass lands ; and an opening in the one poor street (if it 
can be called such) of the village, shows the real useable beach 
and the few fishing craft moored to it. 

Standing still on the plateau, our backs to the sea, the eye 
falls on a landscape of cultivated plains, extending out for 
miles and miles. The only house near to the plateau is 
exactly opposite to it — a large red-brick house built in a dell. 
It may be a quarter of a mile distant from the edge of the 
plateau where we stand, but the gradual descent of the 
grassy land causes it to look very much nearer. This is the 
Fed Court Farm. It is a low, long house, rather than a high 
one, and has been built on the site of an ancient castle, signs 
of whose ruins may be seen still. The plateau itself is but 
as wide as about a good stone’s throw ; and on its lower part, 
not far from where it joins the lands of the Fed Court 
Farm, and the descent is rather abrupt, rises a dilapidated 
circular stone wall, breast high, with a narrow opening 
wdiere the door used to be. This is called the Found Tower 
and is supposed to have been the watch-tower of the castle. 

The Fed Court stands alone, the last house of the colony, 
some distance removed from any ; its' gates and door of 
entrance are at the end of the house, looking to the village. 
The nearest building to it is the small old church, St. Peter’s, 
standing in the midst of a large graveyard dotted with 


INTRODUCTION. 


23 


graves ; with its portico-entrance, and its square belfry, grey 
with age, green with patches of moss. The high road, ad- 
vancing from the open countij^- behind — it’s hard to say 
whence, or from what bustling cities — comes winding by tlie 
entrance gates of the E^ed Court Farm with a sharp turn, and 
sees two roads branching off before it. It takes the one to 
the right, bearing round to the village, passes through it, and 
goes careering on to Jutpoint, a small town, some four or five 
miles distant, having the sea on the right all the way. The 
other branching road leads past the church to the heath, or 
common, on which are situated the handful of houses, all of 
moderate size, inhabited by the gentry of the place. 

The only good house was the Eed Court Farm. Thorny- 
croft was the name of. the family living in it. Mr. Thorny- 
croft owned the Eed Court and some of the land around it ; 
and he rented more, which he farmed. Many years ago a 
gentleman had come down to look at the place which was for 
sale, and bought it. He was named Thorn ycroft. His two 
sons, Eichard and Harry, were fine powerful young men, but 
wild in their habits, and caused some scandal in the quiet 
place. Previous to the purchase, the house had been known 
as the Eed Court, it was supposed from the deep red of the 
bricks of which it was built. Mr. Thornycroft at once added 
on the word ‘‘Farm” — the Eed Court Farm. A right good 
farmer he proved himself to be, the extent of the land being 
about three hundred acres, comprising what he rented. 
Within a very few years of the purchase Mr. Thornycroft 
died, and Eicbard, the eldest son, came into possession. In the 
following year Eichard also died, from the effects of an acci- 
dent in France. Both the brothers were fond of taking conti- 
nental trips, Eichard especially. 

Thus the place came into the hands of Harry Thornycroft, 
and he entered upon it with his wife and little son. His 
ostensible residence since his marriage had been in London ; 
but he had stayed a great deal at the Eed Court Farm. A 
second son was soon after born, and some five or six years 
later another boy and girl. Mrs. Thornycroft, a gentle, lady- 
like, delicate woman, did not enjoy robust health. Something 
in her face and manner seemed to give the idea that she had 
an inward care — that skeleton in the closet from which so few 
of us are quite free. Whether it w^as so or not in her case 
none could tell. That Harry Thornycroft made her a fond 


24 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


and indulgent husband — that they were much attached to 
each other — there could be no doubt of. Her look of care 
may have arisen solely from her state of health ; perhaps from 
the secret conviction that she should be called away early from 
her children. Years before she died Coastdown said she was 
fading away. Fade away she did, without any very tangible 
disorder, and was laid to rest in a corner of the churchyard. 
To those who know where to look for it, her large white tomb- 
stone may be distinguished from our standing-place on the 
plateau. That grief had been long over, and the Fed Court 
itself again. 

Mr. Thornycroft was a country magistrate, and rode in 
to Jutpoint, when the whim took him, and sat upon the bench 
there. There was no bench at Coastdown ; but petty offend- 
ers were brought before him at the Fed Court — partly because 
he was the only gentleman in the commission of the peace 
living at Coastdown, partly from the fact that he was more 
wealthy and influential than all the other residents put 
together. A lenient justice was he, never convicting when he 
could spare : many a fine, that he himself had imposed from 
the bench at J utpoint, was mysteriously conveyed out of his 
pocket into the poor offender’s to save the man from prison. 
To say that Justice Thornycroft — the title generally accord- 
ed him — was beloved in Coastdown, would be a poor word to 
define the feeling of the poorer people around. He had a 
liberal hand, an open heart and no person carried a tale of 
trouble to him in vain. His great fault, said the small gentry 
around, was unreasonable liberality. Never was there a 
pleasanter companion than he, and his brother magistrates 
chuckled when they got an invitation to the Fed Court din- 
ners, for they loved the hearty welcome and the jolly cheer. 

The two elder sons, Fichard and Isaac, were fine towering 
men like himself — rather wild both, just what Harry Thorny- 
croft and his elder brother had been in their young days. 
Fichard was dark, stern, and resolute ; but he would unbend 
to courtesy over his wine when guests were at table. The few 
who remembered the dead elder brother said Fichard resem- 
bled him much more than he did his father, as is sometimes 
seen to be the case. Certainly in countenance Fichard was 
not like the justice. Isaac was. It was his father’s fair and 
handsome face over again, with its fine features, its dark-blue 
eyes, and its profusion of light curling hair. There was alto- 


INTRODUCTION. 


25 


gether a great charm in Isaac Thorny croft. His manners 
were winning ; his form, strong and tall as Hichard^s, had a 
nameless grace and ease that Richard’s lacked ; and his heart 
and hand were open as his father’s. The young one, Cyril, 
was less robust than his brothers — quiet, gentle, very much 
like his dead mother. Cyril’s taste was all for books ; to the 
out-of-door life favored by Richard and Isaac he had never 
been given. Richard called him a milksop ; ” Isaac would 
pet him almost as he might a girl; all indulged him. To 
Richard and Isaac no profession was given ; as yet none was 
talked of for Cyril. The two elder occupied themselves on 
the land — ostensibly, at any rate ; but half their time was 
spent in shooting, fishing, hunting, according to the seasons. 

A thriving farm the Red Court must be,” quoth the neigh- 
bors given to gossip, for the old man to keep all his sons to 
it.” But it was well known that Mr. Thorny croft must 
possess considerable private property ; the style of living 
would alone prove that. 

A broad gravel drive led straight from the gates to the 
entrance door. There, were different gates and entrances at 
the back of the house, serving for farm vehicles, for servants, 
and for people on business generally. The kitchens and other 
domestic apartments were at the back, looking on to the vari- 
ous buildings behind — barns, stables, and such like. The 
further end of the stables joined some of the old ruins still 
standing — in fact, it may be said that part of the ruins were 
used as such. The young men kept their dog-cart there — a 
large, stylish affair, capable of containing no end of dogs — 
and the fleet, strong, fine horse usually drew it. The front of 
the house (as already seen) faced the plateau and the sea — a 
wide handsome frontage enclosing handsome rooms. And it 
is quite time we entered them. 

Through the portico, level with the ground, and up the two 
steps into the long but somewhat narrow hall — very narrow 
at the back, and shut in by a door — doors opened on either side 
it. The first room on the right was the dining-room — a spa- 
cious apartment, warm and comfortable, bright pictures on its 
dark wainscoated walls, a rich Turkey carpet giving luxury to 
the tread. The windows were at the end, looking towards the 
village and the church belfry ; and the fireplace was opposite 
the door. Passing up the hall, the next room was called fa- 
miliarly the justice-room. Here Mr. Thorny croft sat when 


26 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


offenders were brought before him, and here he saw his farm- 
ing people and kept his papers. . Beyond this was the stair- 
case, and a door, still on the right, opening on the passage 
leading to the domestic apartments. On the left-hand side of 
the entrance-hall was the large drawing-room, its windows 
facing the front; beyond it a smaller and plainer one, always 
in use. A snug little parlor adjoined this, in which Miss 
Thorny croft took her lessons : all these three faced the front. 
The door at the back of the hall opened on a passage and to 
some rooms used only by the gentlemen. The passage ran 
through to a side entrance, which was just opposite that por- 
tion of the stables built on the old ruins — this was convenient, 
since the young men, who had a habit of coming in at all 
hours of the day and night, could put up their horse and dog- 
cart and let themselves in with their latch-kej^s without 
soun’d or movement penetrating to the famil^^ and household. 

It is with the studj’’, or Miss Thornycroft’s parlor, that we 
have to do to-day. Its window is thrown open to the hot 
July sun — to the green lawn and the shrubs underneath — to 
the bare plateau beyond, on whose edge a coast-guardsman 
was pacing on duty — to the sparkling sea in the distance. 
The paper of the room was of white and gold, pretty drawings 
and landscapes in water-colors adorning it. Some of them 
had been done by Miss Thornycroft, some by her late 
mother. The carpet and chairs were green ; the piano, 
cabinets, and other furniture were handsome ; the w'hite 
curtains waved in the gentle breeze — altogether it was a room 
pleasant to look upon. 

Seated on the music-stool, her face to the door, was a little 
middle-aged, brown woman, unmistakably French, without her 
tongue, which was going fluently, a look of reproach on her 
naturally placid face. It was Mademoiselle Derode, the 
governess, resident now some flve years at the Bed Court. 
A simple-minded woman, accomplished though she was — good 
as gold, and timid as her own nature. Bichard Thornycroft 
had related to her some of the ghostly tales connected with 
the Bed Court — or rather with its immediate environs — and 
she would not have stirred out at riiglit alone for tlie world. 
Her chamber window when she flrst came faced the plateau ; 
after hearing the stories she begged and prayed to be removed 
into another. Mrs. Thornycroft, alive then, complied with a 
sad smile, and reproved Bichard in her gentle manner for 


INTRODUCTION. 


27 


saying anything. If whispers were to he believed, these same 
ghostly rumors were even then helping to kill Mrs. Thorny- 
croft. 

Mademoiselle Derode was en colere this morning with her 
pupil. French, German, English ; good music, harp, and 
piano ; drawing and painting ; she was thoroughly versed in 
all, and had as thoroughly taught. For her age. Miss 
Thorn ycroft was an exceedingly well-educated girl, but apt at 
times to be a rebellious one. In fact she was growing quite 
beyond the control of the little governess. 

The young lady stood by the table facing the wdndow — a 
tall, very handsome girl of nearly sixteen, with her brother 
Isaac’s fair skin and bright features, and a suspicious look of 
Fichard’s resolute lip. She wore a blue muslin dress, blue- 
ribbons in her fair hair ; her pretty hands were tossing, not in 
play but petulance, a large white rose, broken short off from 
its stalk ; her well-shaped head was thrown back ; her light 
clear blue eyes looked out defiantly. 

As if there could be reason in it ! ” spoke mademoiselle in 
her quaint but well-pronounced English. You did but the 
little half of your lessons yesterday ; the other day before it 
you went out without saying to me the one word ; and now 
this morning you want to go out again. You will not do any 
one little thing ! I say. Miss Mary Anne, that it has not 
reason in it.” 

I promised Captain Copp I would go, mademoiselle. Mrs. 
Copp will be waiting for me.” 

And I promise you that you cannot go,” returned the 
governess, decisively. My faith ! you go, you go, you go ; 
yesterday, to-day, to-morrow ; and where are your studies ? I 
might as well take my departure ; I am of no longer use.” 

“I wish I was that douanier,” spoke the young lady with 
an angry stamp, looking out at the preventive man pacing the 
edge of the plateau. 

“ I wish you were — for one day ; you would soon wish your- 
self back again into yourself. Miss Thorny croft. Will you sit 
down and begin your studies ? ” 

^‘Ko; it is too hot to work. German would give me the 
headache to-day, mademoiselle.” 

I wish your papa. Monsieur the J ustice was at home. I 
would appeal to him.” 

So would I. I wish he was ! Papa would not make me 
do lessons against my will.” 


28 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Will you come into the other room to your harp, then ? 

No,’’ reiterated Miss Thorny croft. When I don’t want 
to work, I can’t work ; and, excuse me, mademoiselle, but I 
wonH. There ! I am invited out to-day, and I want to go. 
Mrs. Sam Copp is going to Jutpoint, and she is to take me.” 

Mademoiselle got up in despair. Day by day, she saw it 
well, her authority was getting less. 

Miss Mary Anne, hear me ! I will not have you g,o, I 
defend you to quit the house.” 

Mary Anne laughed disobediently. 

I shall go if Captain Copp comes for me, mademoiselle.’^ 

Mademoiselle wrung her hands. 

I will go and find Mr. Bichard. He is master here when 
the justice is not. I will lay the case before him and say, 
^ What am I to do with this rebellious child ? ’ ” 

She quitted the room on her search. Miss Thornycroft 
went to the window and leaned out, wishing herself once- 
more the preventive man, or anybody else who had not a 
governess. At that moment she saw her brother Isaac go 
running on to the plateau from the direction of the village, 
stand a minute talking with the coast-guardsman, and then 
come vaulting down towards the house. It has not been 
mentioned that a line of light railings enclosed the plateau 
below the round tower — a boundary line between it and the 
Bed Court grounds. Isaac Thornycroft leaped the railings, 
and saw his sister. She called to him in a voice of earnest- 
ness ; he came round to the front entrance and entered the 
room. 

Handsome in his careless grace, and bright as the summer’s 
morning. He wore light cool clothes, his linen was curiously 
white and fine ; looking altogether, as he always did, a noble 
gentleman. Bichard would be in coarse things, unbrushed 
and shabby, for a week together; the brothers ^ had quite 
opposite instincts. 

Mary Anne went up to him with a pleading voice and tears 
in her eyes, all her assumption of will gone. 

Oh, Isaac ! — dear Isaac ! won’t you help me ? You are 
always kind.” 

“ My little dove ! what is it ? ” 

She told her tale. Her engagement with Captain and Mrs. 
Copp, and mademoiselle’s cruel hard-heartedness. Isaac 
laughed outright. 


INTRODUCTION. 


29 


Cruel hard heartedness, indeed ! worse than that of 
Barbara Allen. My pretty one ! ’’ he whispered, stooping 
until his lips touched her cheek. 

Well, Isaac 

Put on your things, and Pll smuggle you off. Quick.^^ 

She needed no second warning. In two minutes, down she 
was again, a white mantle on her shoulders, a straw hat with 
its blue ribbons shading her fair bright face. Isaac took her 
out at the front door, just before Mademoiselle Derode got 
back again. 

I have sent for your brother, Mr. Bichard, Miss Mary 
Anne, and JElle n^est pas id ? 

Mademoiselle called, and looked in this room and that. 
She had not finished when Bichard strode in, his face dark 
and stern as usual, his shoes and gaiters dusty, his velveteen 
waistcoat buttoned close up, his coat soiled. He had been 
helping to fill in a pond. 

‘‘ Lessons ! of course she must learn her lesons. Where is 
she, mademoiselle ? 

Mademoiselle was arriving at the conclusion that she was 
nowhere. One of the housemaids had seen her dress herself, 
and go downstairs. Of course she had gone. Gone in dis- 
obedience ! Bichard went back to his pond, and mademoiselle 
sat down and folded her arms. 

In the course of an hour Mr. Thornycroft came in. A 
handsome man still, upright and grand 5 his features fair and 
pleasant, his smile rather free, no grey as yet mingling with 
his still luxuriant hair. Mademoiselle carried her grievance 
to him ; as she had been obliged to do more than once of late. 

It is not to complain of her, monsieur ; Pm sure you know 
that, I love her too well; but in her own interest I must 
speak. She is at the age when she most needs guidance and 
control ; and she is showing that she has a will of her own, 
and will exercise it ! It was always there.’’ 

‘^I suppose it was,” said the justice. have a will myself. 
Bichard and Isaac have wills.” 

^^If I can no longer be obeyed, monsieur, better that I 
should go back to my little home in France, and make a place 
for a governess who will have control.” 

^^Ho, no,” said Mr. Thornycroft, very quickly. ^^That 
WOUI4 not do. I’ll have no fresh governess here.” 

“But what is to be done, monsieur ? ” 

“ I’ll think of it,” said Mr. Thornycroft. 


30 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTEE II. 

ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. 

In the midst of the pretty and exclusive village of Kat- 
terly, an inland spot, from twenty to thirty miles away from 
the sea, there stands a charming residence, half-cottage, half- 
villa, called Katterly Lodge. Its rooms are warm in winter, 
cool in summer ; it rises in the midst of a lovely garden, in 
view of magnificent scenery ; and the sweetest roses and 
honeysuckles entwine themselves on its walls. 

The evening August sun — July had just past — shone full 
on its entrance gate; on a lady, young and fair, who was 
leaning over it. She may have been about three-and-twenty, 
and she was dressed in white, with ribbons in her hair. 
There was a remarkable refinement and delicacy in her face, 
her manners, in her appearance altogether; and her soft dark 
eyes had a sad expression. Did you, who may be reading 
this, ever observe that peculiar, sad look — not a passing sad- 
ness or one caused by present care — but a fixed mournful look 
implanted in the eyes by nature ? It is not a common 
expression, or one often seen ; rely upon it, when you do see it 
it is but an index that the spirit is, or will be sad wfithin. 

Sauntering by the road towards the gate, encumbered with 
a basket, a rod, and other apparatus pertaining to the fishing 
art, strode a gentleman, carelessly switching the hedge as he 
passed it. No sad expression was there about him ; rather 
the contrary. He was of middle lieight, very slender, with a 
frank pleasant face given to laughing, and dark auburn hair ; 
his manner was light, his speech free and careless. Her face 
sparkled at his approach, and she opened the gate long before 
he had gained it. 

What sport, Eobert? What have you brought ? ” 
Brought you myself,’^ was the gentleman’s reply, as he 
passed in at the gate she held wide. Thank you. How 
much is the toll ? ” 

As he bent to take the ^^toll,” a kiss, she glanced shyly in 
his face and blushed — blushed brightly ; although she was 
his wife of nearly three years’ standing. In a retiring 
impassioned earnest nature such as hers, it takes a great deal, 


ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. 


81 


ere love can die out — a convulsion sometimes. With her it 
had not begun to die. 

His name was E-obert Frederick Hunter. His wife liked 
the second name best, and generally called him by it, but as 
other people adhered to the first it may be best to do so here. 
His career already, young though he was, had seen changes. 
Beared in middle-class life in the north of England, prac- 
tically educated, rather than fashionably, he had served his 
articles to a civil engineer. Ere they were quite out, and he 
free, a small fortune came to him through a relative. Mr. 
Robert Hunter thought he could not do better than take to a 
red-coat, and he purchased a lieutenancy in a home corps. 
Nearly simultaneously with this, he met with Clara Lake, of 
Katterle3^ He fell in love with her ; at least he fancied so ; 
she most unmistakably did with him, and the preliminaries 
for a marriage were arranged. Her father made it a proviso 
that he should quit the army ; and that they should live with 
him after the marriage at Katterley Lodge. Robert Hunter 
assented, sold out, and the marriage took place. When his 
wife’s father died shortly after, it was found that Katterley 
Lodge and money amounting to four or five hundred a 3^ear 
were left to her, with a condition that Mr. Hunter should take 
the name of Lake. So he was mostly called in Katterley, 
Lake, or Hunter-Lake ; elsewhere he was as before, Hunter. 
Just for the present we will call him Lake, but it must not be 
forgotten that Hunter was his real name. 

Mr. Lake opened his basket as he got in and diplayed the 
contents — some fine trout. Two were ordered to be dressed, 
and served with the tea. On the days of these fishing expedi- 
tions, Mrs. Lake dined earl}^ Occasionally she went with him. 
Not very often. The sport wearied her, and but for him at 
whose side she sat, it would never have been endurable. 

Sport, indeed ! ” she used laughingly to say, ‘‘ I’d as soon 
be at a funeral.” 

What have you. been doing all the afternoon, Clara? ” 

Oh, reading and working ; and wishing it was time for 
you to come home.” 

^^Sill}’^ girl!” laughed he, as he played with her curls. 

Suppose I should be brought home to j^ou some day fished 
out of the stream nwself ; drowned and dead.” 

Don’t joke, please,” was her replj^, given in a low voice. 

It had like to have been no joke this afternoon. I all but 


32 


THE BED COURT FARM. 


over-balanced myself. But for a friendly tree I should have 
been in ; perhaps done for.^^ 

Oh, Eobert ! she exclaimed, the bright rose fading out 
of her cheeks. 

And there’s a fierce bit of current there, and the river is 
at its deepest, and the mill-wheel a stone’s throw lower down,” 
he continued, as if he enjoyed the sport of teasing herj which 
perhaps he did. I was an idiot never to learn to swim.” 

Did you slip ? ” she asked in a half-whisper. 

I was leaning too forward and lost my balance. Oh, 
Clary ! you are a little coward at best. Why your heart is 
beating fast ; a vast deal faster than mine did, I can tell you. 
And where have your roses gone ? ” 

She looked up with a faint smile. 

To be affected in this manner, to agitation, merely at the 
recital of the possible danger, now past, was what Mr. Lake 
did not understand. ISTeither did he understand the depth of 
her love, for no sentiment in his own heart echoed to it ; the 
time for love, with him, had not come. 

^^It is simply foolish, child, to feel alarm now,” he said, 
looking at her gravely. 

You must not go again, Eobert.” 

The remark called forth a hearty laugh. ^^Not go again! 
What am I to do, then, until shooting comes in ? ” 

What, indeed ? Eobert Lake was an idle man. One of 
those whose unhappy lot it is (the most unhappy lot on earth) 
to be obliged to “ kill ” time, or else find it hang on their 
hands with a heavy weight. To a man born to idleness, 
cradled in the lap of luxury, it is bad enough ; but to Eobert 
Lake, brought up to industry, it was simply unbearable. He 
was skilled and clever in his profession, and he loved it ; the 
misfortune of his life was having the money left to him j the 
great mistake his quitting his profession. He saw it now; he 
had seen it nearly ever since. Another mistake, but a smaller 
one, W’as his retiring from the army ; as he had entered it, he 
ought to have kept in it. That fault was not his, but old Mr. 
Lake’s. Lieutenant Hunter was on a visit at his sister’s 
wLen he met Clara Lake, also staying there, the heiress in a 
small way. They fell in love with each other ; he, after his 
temperament, carelessly and lightly, a species of love that he 
had felt for others, and would feel for more ; she with all the 
fervor, the lasting depth of an impassioned and poetic nature. 


ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. 


33 


When he came to speak of marriage, and the father — an old- 
fashioned man who had once worn a pig-tail — said ^^Yes, 
upon condition that you quit soldiering and settle down with 
me — I cannot part with my daughter/^ E/obert Hunter acqui- 
esced without a word of murmur. Hay, he rather liked the 
prospect ; change of all sorts bears its charm of magic for the 
young. And he was very young ; but a year or so older than 
his wife. They settled down in Katterley Lodge ; he to idle- 
ness, and it brings danger sometimes ; she to happiness, which 
she believed in as real, as a bliss that would last for ever. If 
there were a man more perfect than other men on earth, she 
believed her husband to be that man. A charming confidence, 
a safeguard for a wife’s heart ; but sometimes the trust gets 
rudely awakened. One great grief had come to Clara Lake — 
she lost her baby ; but she was getting over that now. 

How intolerable idleness had been to Robert Hunter at 
first, none save himself ever knew. Over and over again 
visions of resuming his work as a civil engineer, came pressing 
on him. But it was never done. In the first year of their 
marriage came old Mr. Lake’s long illness and death ; in the 
second year came the baby and a prolonged illness for Clara ; 
in the third year, this, the idleness had grown upon him, and 
he cared less to exchange it for hard work. It is of all evils 
nearly the most insidious. 

All the year long, from January to December, living at 
Katterley Lodge with nothing to do ! And he was really 
beginning not to feel the sameness. Their income, about six 
hundred a year in all, was not sufficient to allow of their 
mixing in the great world’s fair, the London season ; and one 
visit onl}^ had they paid the seaside. The pretty cottage, with 
its roses and its honeysuckles for a bower, and fishing for 
recreation in the summer season ! It had a monotonous 
charm, no doubt ; but the young man’s conscience sometimes 
warned him that he was wasting his life. 

The tea and the fish came in, and they sat down to it, Mrs. 
Lake remarking that she had forgotten to mention his sister 
had been there. 

What has she come over for ? ” 

To see the Jupps. Some little matter of business, she 
said.” 

Business with the Jupps ! Gossiping, rather, Clary.” 

She said she should remain to tea with them. I wanted 

2 


34 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


her to come hack and take it with us ; I told her there would 
be some fish. The fish was a great temptation, she said, but 
she must stay at the Jupps’ ! Wlio’s this ?’’ continued Mrs. 
Lake as the gate was pushed open with a hasty hand. 

Why, here she is ! 

And now for a clatter.’^ He alluded to his sister’s voluble 
tongue, but he got up and went out to greet her, table-napkin 
in hand. It was Mrs. Chester, his half-sister. She was ten 
years older than he, twenty times older in experience, and 
rather inclined to be dictatorial to him and his gentle wife. 
Her husband, a clergyman, had died a few months back, and 
she was not left well off in the world. She had just taken a 
house at Guild, a place about seven miles from Katterley ; 
though how she meant to pay expenses in it, she scarcely 
knew. 

“Well, Clary! here I am hack again!” she exclaimed as 
she came in ; “ like a piece of bad money returned.” 

“I am so glad to see you!” returned Mrs. Lake, in her 
warmth of courtesy, as she rose and brought forward a chair 
and rang the bell, and busied herself with other little signs of 
welcome. 

Mrs. Chester threw off her widow’s bonnet and black silk 
mantle. Her well-formed face was pale in general, but the 
hot August sun made it red now. She was a little, restless 
wmman, inclined to be stout, with shrewd grey eyes and brown 
hair, and a nose sharp at the end. The deep crape on her 
merino gown looked worn and shabby ; her muslin collar and' 
cuffs were tumbled. She told everybody she was twenty- 
eight ; Mr. Lake knew her to be four-and-thirty. 

“ Such a mess it makes of one, travelling in this heat and 
dust ! ” she exclaimed rather fretfull}^, as she shook out her 
skirts and pulled her collar here and there before the chimney- 
glass. “ I’ve nothing but my bonnet-cap here ; you won’t 
mind it.” 

It was a bit of plain muslin with a widow’s gauffered 
border. Mrs. Chester untied the black strings of it as she 
turned round and fanned herself with her handkerchief. 

“ Did the fish bring you back, Penelope ? ” asked Mr. 
Lake. 

“ Hot it. When I got to the Jupps I found they were 
going to have a late dinner-party. Tliey wanted me to stay 
for it. Fancy ! in this dusty guise of costume. How delicious 
those fish loolf ! ” 


ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. 


35 


Try them/’ said Mr. Lake, passing some to her. I 
have not caught finer trout this season. Clara has some cold 
fowl in the house, I think, if you have not dined.” 

“ I dined before I came over — that is, had a scrambling sort 
of cold-meat meal, half dinner, half lunch. E»obert, I should 
like you to catch fish for me always.” 

How are you getting on with the house, Penelope ? ” he 
asked. Are 3^ou straight yet ? ” 

Oh, we are getting on. Anna’s worth her weight in gold 
at that sort of thing. She has been used to contrive and 
work all her life, jmu know.” 

“ She might be used to worse things,” said Mr. Lake. 

I have got a — visitor coming to stay with me,” resumed 
Mrs. Chester, making a pause before the word visitor, and 
then going on with a cough, as if a fish-bone had stuck in her 
throat. 

Who is it ? ” 

Lady Ellis.” 

Lady Ellis ! ” echoed Mr. Lake, unaware that his sister 
had any one of the name on her visiting list. Who on 
earth is Lady Ellis ? ” 

Well, she is a friend of the Jupps’.” 

Oh. And why is she going to visit you ? ” 

Because I choose to ask her,” returned Mrs. Chester, in a 
reproving tone, meant for the public benefit, while she gave 
her brother a private kick under the table. ‘‘ She is a widow 
lady, just come home from India in the depth of her sorrow ; 
and she wants to find some quiet country seclusion to put her 
poor bereaved head into.” 

Mr. Lake concluded that the kick was intended as a 
warning against asking questions. He put a safe one. 

“ Is she staying with the Jupps ? ” 

“ Oh dear, no. She went to India a mere child, I fancy. 
She was verj^ pretty, and was snapped up by some colonel, a 
K. C. B. , and dreadfully old.” 

Ellis by name, I presume ? ” carelessly remarked Mr. 
Lake, as he looked for another nice piece of fish for his sister’s 
plate. 

Colonel Sir George Ellis,” spoke Mrs. Chester, in a 
grandly reproving tone, as if the title were good for her 
mouth. He is dead, and Lady Ellis has come home.” 

With a lac of rupees?” 


36 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Witli a lack of rupees,” retorted Mrs. Chester, rubbing 
her sharp nose. Sir George’s property, every shilling of it, 
was settled on his first wife’s children. Lady Ellis has money 
of her own — not very much. 

And why is she coming to you ? ” 

I have told you. She wants quiet and country air.” 

Will she pay you ? ” 

^^Pay me! Good gracious, Robert, what mercenary ideas 
you have ! Do you hear him, Clara ? Oh, thank you ; don’t 
heap my plate like that, though I think I never did taste such 
fish. The Jupps have been praising her to the skies, one 
trying to out-talk the rest. Never were such talkers as the 
Jupp girls.” 

Except yourself,” put in Mr. Lake. 

Mrs. Chester lifted her eyes in surprise. 

‘‘Myself! Why, I am remarkably silent. Nobody can say 
I talk.” 

He glanced at his wife as he suppressed a smile. The 
matter in regard to Lady Ellis puzzled him — at least, the pro- 
posed residence with Mrs. Chester ; but he supposed he might 
not inquire further. 

“ Should you like to take home some trout, Penelope ? ” 

“ That I should. Have you any to give ? ” 

“ I’ll have them put up for you, the fellow brace to these. 
Mind the youngsters don’t get the bones in their throats.” 

“ They must take their chance,” was the philosophical 
reply. “ Children were never sent for anything but our tor- 
ment. I am going to pack the two young ones off to school.” 

“ Have you further news from the Clergy Orphan School 
about James ? ” 

“ News ! Yes. It is all cross together. There’s not the 
least chance for him, they write me word, at the election in 
November ; I must try again later. And now, Clara, I want 
you and your husband to come to me for Sunday and Monday. 
Will you promise ? I came over purposely to ask you.” 

Mrs. Lake did not immediately answer. 

“ You can come on Sunday morning in time for church, and 
remain until Tuesday. I don’t ask you to come on Saturday 
evening ; we shall be busy until late. The J upps are 
coming.” 

“ All of them ? ” asked Mr. Lake. 

“Not all. I don’t know where I should put them. Some 


ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. '37 

of tlie girls : Mary and Margaret for two ; and Oliver. I 
have three spare bedrooms nearly ready.” 

Three spare bedrooms ? And you grumbling about the 
purse’s shallowness ! ” 

Allow me to manage my own affairs/’ said Mrs. Chester, 
equably. You will say ^ Yes/ will you not, Clara ? I want 
to show you my house ; you have never seen it.” 

Clara Lake did say ^^Yes;” but at the same time there 
was a feeling in her heart prompting her to say i^fo.” She 
neither listened to it nor gave way to it ; and yet she was 
conscious that it was there, as she well remembered afterwards. 

And now I must be going,” said Mrs. Chester, putting on 
her bonnet and mantle. You will come with me to the sta- 
tion, E/obert ? ” 

They started together : he carrying the basket of fish : and 
walked slowly. As he remarked, they had plenty of time. 

I know it,” she said. I came on early to talk to you.” 

About Lady Ellis and her projected visit ? ” he quickly 
rejoined. ‘^1 thought there was some scheme agate by the 
kick you gave me.” 

^^E-obert, I must scheme to live.” 

T think you must if you are to keep three spare bedrooms 
for visitors.” 

I am left a widow, Eobert, with a fair amount of furni- 
tuic, and a wretched pittance of two hundred a year. How 
am I to live like a lady and educate the children ? ” 

But why need you have taken so large a house ? ” 

What am I to do ? How am I to eke out my means ? 
I cannot lose caste. I can’t go and open a shop ; I can’t turn 
Court milliner ; I can’t begin and speculate in the funds ; I 
can’t present myself to the Government or the Bank of 
England directors, and make a curtsey, and say, ‘ Please, 
gentlemen, double my income for me, and then perhaps I can 
manage to get along.’ Can I ? ” added Mrs. Chester, 
fiercely. 

I never said you could.” 

i^o ; I have only got my own resources to look to, and my 
own headpiece to work upon. It has been ransacked pretty 
well of late, I can tell you. The first idea that suggested 
itself to me was to educate Fanny at home with Anna 
Chester’s help, and to get half-a-dozen pupils as w'ell, on the 
plan of a private family. But I hated the thought of it. I 


38 


THE REi) COURT FARM. 


have no nerves and no patience ; and I knew I should he 
worried out of my very existence. Besides, education gets 
more fantastical every day, and I am not up to the modern 
rubbish they call requirements: so I said, ^That won’t do.’ 
Next I thought* of getting three or four gentlewomen to live 
with me, on the plan of a private family. Quite as visitors, 
you know ; and the longer I dwelt on the scheme the better I 
liked it. I thought it would be a pleasant, social way ot 
getting on ; and I determined to carry it out. Now you know 
wh}^ I have taken a large house, and am putting it into good 
order.” 

That is, you are going to take boarders ? ” 

“ If you choose to put it in that plain way. You are so 
ver}^ downright, Robert. Lady Ellis is the first coming.” 

How did you hear of her ? ” 

Never you mind,” returned Mrs. Chester, who did not 
choose to say she had advertised. Friends are looking out 
for me in London and elsewhere. I have had some correspon- 
dence with Lady Ellis, and she comes to me the middle of 
next week. She wants quiet, she says — quiet and country air. 
A most exquisite little hand she writes, only you can’t read it 
at sight.” 

“ Have you references ? ” 

Of course. She referred me to some people in London, 
and also in Cheltenham, where she is now staying. In her 
last letter she mentioned that the Jupps of Katterley knew 
her, and that’s the chief thing that brought me over to-day. 
Mind, Robert, I did not tell the Jupps she was coming to me 
as a boarder: only as a visitor. ^She writes me that you 
know her,’ I carelessly said to the girls, and they immediately 
began to tell all they did know, as I knew they would.” 

What did they say ? ” 

Well, the whole of it did not amount to much. At first 
they persisted they had never heard of her, till I said she was 
formerly a Miss Finch, having lost sight of her when she 
went to India. They are charmed to hear she has come back 
Lady Ellis, and think it will be delightful for me to have her 
with me.’ 

Unless you can get more boarders. Lady Ellis will prove a 
source of expense to 3mu, Penelope, instead of a profit.” 

^Wou can’t teach me,” retorted Mrs. Chester. I mean to 
get more.” 


ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. 


39 


What is she to pay you ? ’’ 

Well, you know, Robert, I can’t venture upon much style 
at first, wanting the means. I am unable to set up men- 
servants, and a service of plate, and a pony carriage, and that 
sort of thing: so at present mj^ terms must be in accordance 
with my accommodation. iN’ow what should you think fair? ” 

I ? Oh, nonsense ! Don’t ask me.” 

Lady Ellis is to pay me a hundred pounds if she stays 
the j^ear ; if not, ten pounds per month. ISTow you see, if I 
get four at that rate, permanent inmates,” went on Mrs. 
Chester, rapidly, it will bring my income up to six hundred 
pounds, which will be comfortable, and enable one to live.” 

I suppose it will.” 

You suppose it will ! ” snapped Mrs. Chester, who was 
resenting his indifferent demeanor. It is as much as you 
and Clara possess. Yon live well.” 

We have none too much. We spend it — all.” 

And more imprudent of you to spend it all ! as I have 
often thought of telling you, Robert Hunter. I wonder you 
can reconcile jmurself to live up to the last penny of your 
income, and do nothing to increase it. How will it be when 
children come ? ” 

Ah, that’s a question,” said he, giving the fish-basket a 
twirl. 

You may have a large family yet ; you are both young. 
What sort of a figure would your six hundred a year cut when 
everything had to come out of it ? A dozen children to keep 
at home, and find in clothes, and doctors, and sundries, and a 
dozen children to provide for at school, would make your 
mone}’' look foolish.” 

Let’s see,” cried he, gravely; ^Hwelve at hom.e and twelve 
at school would make twenty-four. Could you not have added 
twelve more while you. were about it, and said thirty-six ? ” 

Don’t be stupid ! You know I meant twelve in all. 
They may come, for all you can tell ; and thej^’ll require both 
home expenses and school expenses, as you will find. It is a 
sin and shame, Robert, for a young capable man like you, 
to live an idle life.” 

I tell myself so every other morning, Penelope.” 

She glanced at him, uncertain whether he spoke in jest oi 
earnest. His dark-blue eyes had a serious look in them, but 
there was a smile on his pleasant lips. 


40 


TH RED COURT FARM. 


If you don’^t think well to take up civil engineering again, 
try something else. There’s nothing like providing for a 
rainy da}^; and a man who lives up to his income cannot he 
said to do it. You cannot be altogether without interest ; 
perhaps you might get a post under Government.” 

^T’ll apply for the lord-lieutenancy,” said he. The place 
is vacant.” 

I know you always turn into ridicule any suggestion of 
mine,” again retorted Mrs. Chester. You might get into the 
board of works, and leave the lord-lieutenancy for your betters. 
There’s the train, shrieking in the distance. Don’t forget 
Sunday. I wish you and Clara to see how nice the house 
looks.” 

“ All right, Penelope ; we will not forget. But now I want 
to know why you could not have given your explanation before 
my wife.” 

‘‘ Her pride would have taken alarm.” 

Indeed you cannot know Clara if you think that.” 

I know her as well as you,” returned Mrs. Chester. I 
shall acquaint neither her nor the Jupps of the terms on 
which Lady Ellis is coming.” 

He said no more. To keep the fact from the clear-sighted, 
sensible Jupps would be just an impossibility ; and he meant 
to tell his wife as soon as he got home. They passed through 
the waiting-room to the platform. Mrs. Chester took her seat 
in one of the carriages ; he handed in the basket of trout, and 
stood back. Just before the train started, she suddenly beck- 
oned to him. 

^^Eobert,” she began in a low voice, putting her head out at 
the window to speak, I’m going to give you a caution. Don’t 
you carry on any of that nonsensical flirting with Eose J upp, 
should you ever happen to be together in the presence of Lady 
Ellis. You make yourself utterly ridiculous with that girl.” 

He looked very much amused. A couple of sinful scape- 
goats ! I am astonished you ever have us at your house ! ” 

There you are, mocking me again. You may think as 
you please, Eobert, but it is excessively absurd in a married 
man. I saw you kiss Eose Jupp the other day.” 

He broke into a laugh. 

Anything of that before Lady Ellis would b.e an awful 
mistake. It might frighten her away again.” 

Oh, we will both put on our best behavior for the old 


ROBERT HUNTER AND HIS WIFE. 


41 


Begum. Do not let doubts of us disturb your sleep, Pene- 
lope.’^ 

She is not old, but I daresay she knows what propriety 
is,” sharply concluded Mrs. Chester as the train puffed off. 
And Mr. Lake, quitting the station, went home laughing. 

He found his wife in a reverie. The feeling, that she had 
done wrong to promise to go to Mrs. Chester’s, was making 
itself unmistakably heard, and Clara tried to analyse it. 
Why should it be wrong ? It was difficult to say. Sunday 
travelling ? But she had gone several times before to spend 
Sunday with Mrs. Chester, gone and returned the same day ; 
for Guild Bectory, where Mrs. Chester had lived, was short of 
bedrooms. Ho, it was not the idea of Sunday travelling that 
disturbed her, and she could find no other reason. Finally 
she gave up the trouble of guessing, and her husband came in. 

Were you not too early for the train, Bobert ? ” 

I should think so. Penelope confessed that she wiled me 
out to talk of her plans. I’ll tell you about them directly. 
What do you think she wound up with, Clara, just as the 
train was starting ? ” 

He had sat down in a large arm-chair, and was holding his 
wife before him by the waist. 

With an injunction not to flirt so much with Bose Jupp ! 
Which is absurd in itself, she says, and might frighten away 
the grand Indian Begum.” 

Clara Lake laughed. She was accustomed to witness her 
husband’s free rattling manners with others, but not a shadow 
of jealousy had yet arisen. She believed his love to be hers, 
just as truly and exclusively as hers was his ; and nothing as 
yet had shaken the belief. 


42 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTEE III. 

CLARA lake’s DREAM.* 

It was certainly a singular dream, well worthy of being 
recorded. Taken in conjunction with its notable working out, 
few dreams have been so remarkable. At least, if it may be 
deemed that subsequent events did work it out. The reader 
must judge. 

Mr. and Mrs. Lake retired to rest as usual, eating no supper. 
When they had fish or meat with tea, supper was not served. 
On this evening he drank some wine-and-water before going 
to bed ; she touched nothing. Therefore it cannot be thought 
she suffered from nightmare. 

It was a singular dream ; let me repeat the assertion. And 
it was in the earlier part of the night that it visited her. 
How soon after she went to sleep, how late, there were no 
means of knowing. 

Part of the evening’s doings came to her again in her sleep. 
She thought that Mrs. Chester called, went on to the Jupps’ 
house, returned to drink tea, and gave the invitation to go to 
her house at Guild on the Sunday — all just as it had been in 
reality. Clara also thought that she felt an insuperable objec- 
tion to go, in spite of having accepted the invitation. Not the 
vague idea that had presented itself to her awake, the half- 
wish that she had not made the engagement, but a strong, 
irrepressible conviction that the going would bring her evil — 
but accompanied with a conviction, a knowledge, so to say, 
that she should go, that it was her fate to go, and that she 
could not avoid it. She dreamt that Mrs. Chester had 
departed, and that she was discussing the point with her 
husband. They were in a kitchen, a large kitchen quite 
strange to her, and were standing by a small, round, dark- 
colored table in its middle. The fireplace, as Clara stood, was 
behind her; the window, a wide one, with an ironing board 
underneath it, was in front ; a dresser with shelves was on her 
left hand ; and there were several doors, leading she did not 
know where. Altogether, the kitchen looked large and bleak, 
something like those we see in farm-houses : and, seated on a 

* The dream is not fiction: it is but transcribed, even to the minutest 
particular. 


CLARA lake’s DREAM. 


43 


chair to the right, apparently engaged in sewing, and taking 
no notice of them, Clara suddenly saw Mrs. Chester. She 
and her husband were discussing earnestly — to go, or not to 
go. It appeared that both felt some evil was impending, but 
yet both knew they should go and encounter it, in spite of the 
hesitation : and j^et Clara seemed to feel that her husband 
could have helped her to remain if he would. “What excuse 
can we make for declining ? she seemed to say to him, and 
then they both thought over various pleas, but none appeared 
to answer, and they came to the final conclusion that go the}^ 
must ; which they both had known throughout would be the 
conclusion. All the time they spoke, Mrs. Chester was sitting 
in her chair, listening, but taking no notice; and upon arriv- 
ing at the decision Clara and her husband parted, he going 
towards one of the kitchen doors, she towards the window; 
but so sharp was the conviction that she was rushing upon 
evil, that she awoke. 

Clara thought it a curious dream — curious because it repre- 
sented what had actually occurred, and the bent of her own 
feelings ; curious also because it w^as so unusually vivid, so 
like reality. She got out of bed quietly, not to disturb her 
husband, struck a wax match, and looked at the banging 
watch. It was exactly three o’clock. 

But the dream w^as not yet over. She went to sleep again, 
taking up the thread almost at the point wliere she had left it. 
She remembered all that had passed both of dream and reality ; 
she remembered that she awoke in the certainty that she 
could not go beside the dreaded expedition ; all that was plain 
in this, her second sleep, but she now began making strenuous 
exertions to escape. She did not see her husband again, but 
Mary Ann and Margaret Jupp had joined Mrs. Chester, and 
the three seemed to be forcing her to go. Not by force of 
violence, but of argument, of persuasion ; and she still seemed 
to know that they must prevail, that to withstand at the last 
would be beyond her power. 

The time appeared to change to the morning of departure : 
or rather, with that inconsistency peculiar to dreams, it 
appeared to be the morning of the departure without having 
changed. Still she strove against it ; not saying why, not 
hinting that she feared evil ; of that, she had only spoken 
with her husband ; but striving, not to go, by every possible 
argument, and by passive resistance. And — strange incon- 


44 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


sistency ! — it appeared that if she could have told them the 
reason of her reluctance, her dread of evil, all would have 
been well ; hut it was precisely to them that she must not 
and dared not tell it. 

To any who may fancy the description of the dream 
unnecessarily spun out, the small details too much dwelt upon, 
I would say just a word. It is difficult to shorten that real 
dream of midnight sufficiently for it to be told within reason- 
able bounds. ISTo pen can trace its particulars as they 
appeared ; no power of language describe them as they were 
pictured. And now to resume it. 

Mrs. Chester and the Miss Jupps urged her to depart ; 
were waiting for her. Clara Lake resisted. “ There ! ’’ she 
suddenly exclaimed to them, we cannot go. It is past ten : 
we have let the hour go by, and the train is gone.’^ Oh ! ’’ 
said Mrs. Chester, we can get a carriage and overtake it.’^ 
She went out with them — resistance appeared to be over; she 
felt that it was over, and that she could not help herself — 
went out to look for a carriage. They ran about, down lanjss 
and in the open fields, and could not see one ; but a butcher’s 
cart came up in the lane ; one of them said that would do as 
well as a carriage, and they all got into it. They seemed to 
fly, going along at a fearful pace, but through a most dreary- 
looking country, the skies gloomy, the scenery barren, and the 
road muddy, so muddy that it splashed up upon them as they 
sat: there were also shallow, dismal ponds through which 
they drove. All this haste seemed to be to catch the train, 
but suddenly a noise w’as heard behind them, and it was 
known that it was the train : they had gone so fast as to out- 
strip it. Their cart stopped to wait, and Clara, when the 
noise came close, looked behind, but could only distinguish 
something black which whirled by them, turned round, came 
back, turned again, and pulled up. Why, it is a hearse ! 
she screamed out (but in surprise, not in fear), to Mrs. Chester, 
Yes, it was a hearse, all black, and two men sat upon the box. 
Clara looked out expecting. to see the rest of their party on it, 
but there was no one but the two men : the one she could not 
see, for he seemed to hide his face ; but she caught, fixed upon 
her, the strangely black ej^es of the driver, the blackest eyes 
she ever saw in her life : of the rest of his face she remem- 
bered nothing. Come,” said he, there’s no time to lose ; ” 
and they all four descended from the cart. Clara got on to 


CLARA lake’s DREAM. 


45 


the hearse first, and was settling her cloak around her, when 
she heard the cart drive off, taking the road home again ; 
and, seated in it as before, were Mrs. Chester and Mary and 
Margaret Jupp. ‘^Why don’t you come with me?” she 
called out ; why are you going back ? ” i>[o,” said Mrs. 

Chester, that hearse is for you, not for us ; ” and they drove 
off. The hearse also drove off the contrary way, and Mrs. 
Lake found herself sinking into its interior. She was calm 
enough for a moment, but suddenly she knew that she had 
been entrapped into it, and that she was being taken to her 
burial. 

With a dreadful scream she awoke. 

The scream awoke Mr. Lake. She was bathed in perspira- 
tion, and shaking as in an ague fit. In vain he asked what 
was the matter, whether she was ill : she could not speak to 
tell him, and it was several minutes before she was able in 
any degree to overcome the fright, or relate it to him. 

Robert Lake had no belief in dreams ; was given to scoff 
at them ; but he had too much regard for his wife to attempt 
to scoff then, in her extremity of distress and agitation. He 
_.got up and lighted a lamp, for though morning was glimmer- 
ing it could not be said to be yet light. 

I am quite certain that it is sent to me as a warning,” 
she exclaimed ; and I will not go on Sunday to Guild.” 

I never knew before that you could believe in dreams,” he 
answered. 

I do not believe in dreams ; I have never had any partic- 
ular dreams to believe in. But you must acknowledge, 
Robert, that this one is beyond common. I cannot describe 
to you how vivid, how real everything appeared to me. And 
it was not one dream ; it was two : that at least is unusual. 
The second dream was a continuation of the first.” 

The one induced the other. I dare say you saw a hearse 
pass yesterday ? ” 

have not seen a hearse for ever so long,” she answered, 
still shivering. But, go to your sister’s, I will not. Thank 
heaven 1 though the power to refuse was not mine in the 
dream, it is in reality.” 

But that it was not the time to do it, he could have laughed 
outright at the superstitious folly. He spoke pleasant, loving 
words to her, almost as one would to a frightened child, trying 
to soothe her back to tranquillity. 


46 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Clara; consider! the very fact of your being able to act 
as you please, which it seems you could not do in the dream, 
ought to convince you how void of meaning it was.’’ 

I will not go to Mrs. Chester’s,” v/as all she reiterated, 
with a strange sigh of relief — a sense of thanksgiving that the 
option was assuredly* hers. 

“Wait for the morning sun,” said he. “You will be in a 
different mood then.” 

She did not rise so soon as usual. She had got to sleep 
again at last, first of all making a firm inward resolution that 
no persuasion, no ridicule, no “morning sun” — in whose 
cheery rays things indeed wear a difterent aspect from what 
they do in the dark and weird night — should suffice to alter 
her determination. The warning against going she fully be- 
lived to have been sent to her, and she would abide hy it. 

Mr. Lake waited breakfast for his wife. She came down in 
her delicate muslin dress, looking as pretty as usual. At first 
she made no allusion to the past night ; neither did he — he 
hoped it was at an end ; but when breakfast was about half 
over, she glanced up -at him in her rather shy manner, speak- 
ing in a low tone. 

“ I have a request to beg of you, Robert — that you will not 
mention this dream to any one. I will make some other ex- 
cuse for not going to Guild.” 

“ Dream ! ” cried he, speaking with his mouth full. “ Why, 
Clary, I liad already forgotten it. And so will you before the 
day shall be over.” 

She shook her head. 

“ I shall send word to Penelope that I cannot go.” 

Mr. Lake put down his knife and fork and gazed at her in 
astonishment. To his sober, practical mind, his careless 
nature, this in truth savored of the ridiculous. 

“ Clara, you will never be so foolish 1 I gave you credit for 
better sense. Dreams are all veiy well in there places — to 
amuse old women and children — ^but in these days they should 
not be allowed to influence actions. You can see the bright 
sunshine, the busy work-a-day world around you, and yet you 
can retain remembrance of a ridiculous dream I I thought 
dreams passed away with the night.” 

“ Of course a great part of the vivid impression has passed 
with the night,” she replied, confessing what was the actual 
fact ; “ but I will abide by the night’s impression, neverthe- 


CLARA lake’s DREAM. 


47 


less. I look at it in this light — mj remaining at home can 
hurt no one, it cannot bring harm in any way, while my going 
may bring me harm ; we cannot tell. I am fully decided,’’ 
she continued, in a firm tone ; and do you eat your breakfast 
and cease staring at me.” 

Perhaps you fear the train will come to grief, and pitch us 
all into coffins made to fit your hearse.” 

^‘Well, I don’t know,” returned Clara. If I did get into 
the train on Sunday morning, I should be unusually pleased 
to find myself. safe out of it again.” 

Mr. Lake said no more ; in this frame of -mind reasoning 
was useless. But he felt persuaded the fancy would w^ear 
awaj^, and his wife go contentedly enough with the rest of 
them. 

Nothing more w’as said that day, which was Priday. On 
the next da}^, Saturday, two of the Miss Jupps called on 
Clara, full of the following morning’s excursion. A large 
family was that of the Jupps — six sons and six daughters, all 
living. The sons were out in the world — one in the army, 
one in the navy, one in the church, one reading for the bar, 
one here, one there ; Oliver, the youngest of them, was just 
now at home. The six daughters were all at home, and 
marrying men seemed to fight shy of so large a host. Social, 
pleasant, chatty girls were they, the youngest two-and-twenty, 
the age of the eldest locked up in the church’s register. Mr. 
and Mrs. Jupp wwe a quiet, inoffensive couple, completely 
eclipsed by their sons and daughters; not that any were 
undutiful, but the old people belonged to a bygone age, and 
were scarcely equal to the innovations of this. Mr. Jupp had 
once been high sheriff of the county : it was the one great 
event of the Jupps’ life, imparting to them an importance 
which their pride never quite lost sight of. They lived in a 
large house abutting on the street of Katterley, about five 
minutes’ walk from Mr. Lake’s. 

Mary Ann and Margaret Jupp had come to gossip about 
the proposed Sunday excursion. They were pleasant, voluble 
girls (to pay them the compliment of still calling them girls), 
with light hazel eyes and reddish hair. The sisters were all 
much alike — these two, the eldest ; Louisa and Bose, the 
youngest. They had on flimsy skirts, nankeen-colored jackets, 
and straw hats. The}^ sat in the shady room open to the 
trailing honeysuckles, talking t)o Clara. 


48 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Our plans are changed,” spoke Mary. Oliver, Louisa, 
and Rose go to-morrow, returning home to sleep, and I and 
Margaret go over the next day.” 

‘^We think it would be so truly unconscionable to inflict 
four of us on Mrs. Chester at once, with her few servants, that 
we have written to tell her we will divide ourselves,” inter- 
rupted Margaret, who liked to have her share of tongue. 

Mamma says she wondered at our thoughtlessness when she 
heard us making the bargain.” 

Mrs. Chester would not have made a trouble of it,” an- 
swered Clara. “ She is not one to put herself out of the way.” 

1 ^ 0 , she is very good ; but it would have been imposing on 
hospitality,” said Mary Jupp. ^^For that very reason, as 
mamma observed, we ought to spare her. So Louisa and Rose 
spend Sunday with her ; I and Margaret Monday ; Oliver goes 
both days.” 

But you will remain for Tuesday ? ” 

‘^No. Until she has her house in complete order it would 
be unfair to trouble her with night guests. You and Mr. 
Lake of course will remain the whole time. And now to de- 
liver Louisa’s message. Shall they call for you here to- 
morrow morning, or will you be at the train ? ” 

“ I am not going,” replied Mrs. Lake. 

“Not going!” echoed Mary Jupp. “Good gracious! 
Why not ? ” 

“ It is not quite convenient. Mrs. Chester does not expect 
me.” 

“ But she did expect you ! ” exclaimed Mary, in wonder. 
“Oliver saw Mr. Lake that night after he had taken Mrs. 
Chester to the train, and he told him you were going. l)id 
you not ? ” she added, appealing to Mr. Lake, who sat perched 
on a side table doing something to a fishing-line. 

“ All right,” nodded he. 

“ Yes, we did promise ; but since then I have altered my 
mind, and have written to Mrs. Chester,” said Clara. “ I 
shall go later, when she is more settled.” 

“Well, I never heard of such a thing!” cried Margaret 
Jupp. “ Oliver and the girls will be in a way ! I dont thipk 
they care to go but for the pleasure of your company. Mr. 
Lake, why have you changed your minds ? ”. 

“Ask Clara,” returned he, without looking up. “It’s her 
affair, not mine.” 


CLABA lake’s DREAM. 


49 


The delicate pink in Clara Lake’s cheeks grew a shade 
brighter as the two ladies looked at her and awaited the 
explanation, ^^ot choosing to mention the dream, she was at 
a loss for any sound plea to make. 

I seem to have a prejudice against going to-morrow,” she 
said, feeling how lame were the words. And — and I wrote 
to Mrs. Chester, telling her not to expect me.” 

How very odd ! ” cried Margaret J upp. They were keen- 
sighted, those girls, and felt sure there was some suppressed 
reason. 

The truth is, my wife has taken it into her head that 
Sunday travelling is sinful,” cried Mr. Lake, partly to help 
Clara out of her dilemma, partly in the indulgence of the 
mocking spirit he liked so well. If we do venture to go to- 
morrow, in the teeth of the sin, she thinks the engine will 
infallibly burst and blow us up.” 

Mrs. Lake felt vexed. It was precisely the fear her 
imagination induced her to take. Unable to conceive any 
other probable danger, she was unconsciously casting doubts 
on the safe convoy of the train. But she had not confessed it 
to him. 

Do not talk nonsense,” she said to her husband ; and 
Mary and Margaret Jupp looked from one to the other, not 
knowing what to think. 

My dear Mrs. Lake, they get to Guild for morning service, 
jmu know,” spoke Margaret. I don’t see any great harm in 
going just that little way on a Sunday morning.” 

^^Bobert is very stupid to say such things,” returned Mrs. 
Lake, driven into a corner. I did not think anything about 
its being a sin. The sin is not my objection.” 

The train runs whether we passengers go in it or not ; so 
that our staying away is not of the least benefit in a religious 
point of view,” logically argued Mary Jupp. “Do pray go, 
Mrs. Lake.” 

“ Not to-morrow,” Clara gently said, shaking her head. 

“ Can’t you induce her, Mr. Lake ? ” 

“ I ! I have wasted all my powers of oratory ; I have tried 
persuasion ; I have hinted at an illegitimate application of my 
riding-whip, and all in vain. She’s harder than a brickbat.” 

The young ladies laughed. “ Dear Mrs. Lake, you must 
go, if only to oblige us. Think of the disappointment to 
Louisa and Bose.” 

3 


50 


THE RED COITRT FARM. 


Clara remembered her dream : how Mary Ann and 
Margaret (the very two of the sisters now present) had 
striven in it to persuade her. The recollection only served to 
render her more firm. They began to fear that there would 
be no prevailing, and felt half inclined to be offended. And 
yourself, Mr. Lake ? Do you also remain at home ? 

“ Not I. I don’t live in fear of the boiler’s treachery.” 

Of course I do not wish to prevent my husband’s going,” 
said Mrs. Lake, hastily. 

Though you know you would rather I did not,” he 
rejoined. 

‘^Well, of course, if there is to be — as you say, though I 
don’t — a bursting of the boiler, it would be as bad for you to 
be in it as for me,” she said, affecting a light laugh. The 
truth was, she did wish he would not go ; she knew that she 
should feel more easy ; though she would not ask him to 
remain, lest it might seem selfish. The Miss Jupps rose to 
leave. 

I hope you will think better of it,” said Margaret. 

Louisa was saying this morning how glad she was Mrs. 
Lake was going. She has been counting on you.” 

“ Ah, well — she had better count upon me instead,” cried 
Mr. Lake, as he left his seat to attend them to the gate. 

And mind you give my love to E;Ose, and tell her I shall be 
a bachelor for the day.” 

Don’t forget that,” put in Clara. 

The two ladies walked away, commenting on what had 
passed. Clara Lake was a poor actor, and her manner had 
betrayed that the true reason had not been spoken. Margaret 
said she should put it down to caprice ; ” but both acknow- 
ledged that they had never known Mrs. Lake capricious 
before. 

Never did a more lovely day dawn than that Sunday in 
August. Not another word upon the subject had been 
exchanged between Mr. Lake and his wife since the visit of 
the Miss Jupps ; she shunned it, feeling half ashamed of her- 
self for her persistent folly; he had given the matter up for a 
bad job. After breakfast they stood together, looking from 
the open window. The church bells rang out ; Mr. Lake’s 
time for departure was drawing near. 

must not miss the train,” he carelessly observed. 
^^’T would be a pity to lose the excursion such a morning as 
this.” 


CLARA lake’s DREAM. 


51 


It is a most beautiful day/’ she sighed. I almost envy 
you.” 

Clara/’ he said, turning to her with a sudden seriousness 
of manner, I ask you to be yourself. Lay aside this folly, 
and act as a reasonable woman- ought. Put on your things 
and come with us.” 

She moved closer to him and spoke -deprecatingly. ^^Do 
not be angry with me, Robert ; I believe I am doing right to 
remain away. I must remain.” 

Well, of all the simpletons that ever walked, you are 
about the worst,” was his complimentary rejoinder as he 
caught up his gloves. Good-bye, Clary,” he added, stooping 
to kiss her. 

Oh, Robert, I hope you will come back safely ! ” she said, 
clinging to him as if she feared he was going away for ever ; 
and the tone of her voice, full of mournful wailing, struck 
upon the ear of her husband. 

Nevertheless he went off laughing, telling her not to fear — • 
that he’d come back with all his legs and wings about him. 

On the platform he met Louisa and Rose Jupp under the 
convoy of their brother. Then actually Mrs. Lake is not 
coming ! ” exclaimed Louisa. 

. And I have only come to see you off,” was Mr. Lake’s 
response. I am not going on to Guild.” 

Oh, you barbarous deceiver ! ” quoth Rose. Where are 
you going ? ” 

To church, as a respectable individual of modern society 
ought.” 

I tell you what. Lake,” interrupted Oliver Jupp, a dark, 
short young man, quiet and sensible, this is not fair. These 
girls entrapped me into taking them, on the strength that you 
were to be one of the party, and it’s too bad to shuffle off it.” 

So it is,” returned Mr. Lake. But you must talk to my 
wife about it. I am the most hopelessly henpecked husband, 
your worst fancy ever pictured ; Caudle was nothing to it.” 

The train went smoothly off, and Mr. Lake returned home. 
His wife was leisurely attiring herself for church. She 
started when she saw him. Why, Robert, what has hap- 
pened ? ” 

Nothing. The boiler has not gone up yet ; that calamity 
is expected to take place midway between here and Guild.” 

Why have you come back ? ” 


62 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


I came back because I have got a silly child for my wife,” 
he said, standing in front of her, and speaking half tenderly, 
half severely. One who would have worried her foolish 
heart into a fever, had I gone, believing I should never come 
back alive.” 

She wound her arms round him and pulled his face down to 
hers in her fervent love, her tears falling upon it. “ Oh, my 
darling ! my dearest ! you don’t know how happy you have 
made me ! ” she passionately whispered. How shall I 
thank you for giving way to my foolishness ? I should have 
been in unhappy suspense all day long.” 

I shan’t give way to it next time,” cried he, as he kissed 
away her tears. And I have told the girls what a henpecked 
husband I am, the slave of a capricious tyrant. J upp won’t 
be in a hurry to marry after my warning example before his 
eyes.” 

The next time ! ” she repeated, with a sad smile. 
^^Eobert, there will be no next time. I shall never have such 
a dream again.” 

The Jupps went grumbling all the way to Guild. That is, 
the young ladies grumbled, and their brother listened. The 
disappointment was really great. Mr. and Mrs. Lake were 
great favorites with everybody ; just those people that make 
society brighter for their presence. 

Margaret savs Clara Lake was taken with a capricious 

fit.” 

^^bTonsense, Louisa!” spoke Oliver, at length. She has 
too much innate good feeling for caprice. Mrs. Chester has 
been at her domineering ways, I expect, and frightened her 
poor little sister-in-law.” 

Guild reached, they found their way to Mrs. Chester’s 
\house, which was just outside the town, some ten minutes’ 
walk from the station. It was a pretty place — old-fashioned 
but commodious ; standing in the midst of a productive gar- 
den, with windows opening to a large lawn. It used to be 
called Guild Farm ; Mrs. Chester had already changed that, 
and rechristened it Guild Lawn.” She had it at a cheap 
rent. There were two houses on the farm, and the farmer 
who rented the land lived in the other: to let this was so 
much gain to him. Guild Eectory, where Mrs. Chester had 
hitherto lived, was at the opposite end of the town. 

The Reverend James Chester, her late husband, had been a 


CLARA lake’s DREAM. 


63 


poor curate for the greater portion of his life. He, his first 
wife (who was a cousin of the Jupps), and their only child, 
Anna, had lived on his country curacj^ of one hundred a year. 
He had no residence ; and none, save themselves, knew the 
shifts they had been put to — the constant scheming and con- 
triving they had been forced to exercise to live as gentlepeople 
and keep up appearances out of doors. His wife died ; and, 
close upon it, the bishop gave him the living of St. Thomas, 
at Guili Its emoluments were a small house and three hun- 
dred a year— great riches in the eyes of the Reverend James 
Chester. He next married Penelope Hunter, who had two 
hundred a year of her own. Three children were subse- 
quently born, Fanny, Thomas, and James. When the girl was 
ten years old and the youngest boy six, Mr. Chester died ; and 
Mrs. Chester was left with Anna and her own children on her 
hands, a little good furniture, and her two hundred a year to 
bring them up upon. So — as she told her half-brother — she 
had to scheme to live : she took this house, had hoped that 
would help her to do it. 

Well, and now what’s the reason that Robert and Clara 
have not come?” began Mrs. Chester, without any other 
greeting, as she stood, bonnet and mantle on, to receive her 
guests. ‘‘1 should like to know what Clara means by it ! I 
had the coolest letter from her ! — -just putting off her visit to 
a future time, without saying with your leave or by your 
leave.” 

Fine nuts for the Miss Jupps to crack! They hastily 
recounted what had passed at their sisters’ interview with Mrs. 
Lake, and her husband’s words at the train in the morning. 
There was no time for more. 

If you ask my opinion,” said Louisa J upp, as they hurried 
off to the nearest church, I should say that Mrs. Lake has 
acquired an objection to Sunday travelling.” 

“ What a crotchet 1 ” concluded Mrs. Chester. I never 
quite understood my brother’s wife.” 


64 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTEE IV. 

THE ACCIDENT. 

It was a fine night, though not unusually light, for there 
was no moon, and the heavens looked a little misty, as they 
do sometimes following on a hot August day. 

The nine o’clock train dashed into Guild, received its 
waiting passengers, and dashed on again. 

Amidst others, the Miss J upps and their brother entered it, 
having finished their day’s visit to Mrs. Chester. They took 
their seats in the middle compartment of a first-class carriage, 
and happened to have it to themselves. The young ladies sat 
with their backs to the engine, he with his face to it. 

The Lakes would have had a pleasant day had they 
come,” remarked Louisa. “ You may rely upon it her objec- 
tion lay in its being Sunday. Perhaps she is growing 
religious.” 

What an -awful look-out for Lake ! ” spoke up Mr. Jupp, 
from jiis corner. 

Oliver ! ” reproved the young ladies. 

“She’ll stop his liberty and his cigars,” persisted Mr. 
Oliver : “ there are no such martinets under the sun as your 
religious wives. Talking about cigars, would it affect your 
bonnets, girls, if I lighted one now ? ” 

They screamed out together. They would not have their 
loves of new bonnets poisoned and blackened with cigar 
smoke ; they’d never be fit to go on again. “ And you must 
not smoke in these carriages,” added Louisa : “ we are near 
Coombe Dalton station, and the guard would see you.” 

“ Pretty wives you’ll make when you are married,” remarked 
Oliver. “ Afraid of cigar smoke ! ” 

The caution, or the bonnets, caused Oliver Jupp to keep his 
cigar-case in his pocket. Coombe Dalton station, an insignifi- 
cant one, was about midway between Guild and Katterlev. 
The train did not stop at it. Oliver leaned from the window 
to take a survey of the route. 

“We are close to it,” said he; “yonder are the lights. 
Halloa ! what’s the red light flashing up and down for ? 
That ought to be a green.” 


THE ACCIDENT. 


65 


If a red light is waving in the green’s place, there must be 
danger,” said feose, quickly. ^^Red is the danger signal.” 

Tliere’s no danger. If the light indicated danger the train 
would come to a stand-still ; it is going on at the same speed.” 

Scarcely had the words quitted Oliver Jupp’s mouth wdien — 
they scarcely knew what occurred. There was a shriek from 
the whistle, a shock ; and a shriek, not from the whistle, but 
from human beings in their terror. The train came to a stand- 
still and they with it : tliey and their carriage were not hurt or 
inconvenienced ; the carriages behind them were not hurt, nor 
the carriages immediately before them, but the foremost carri- 
ages What had happened ? 

Unstopped, and dashing on in its speed and recklessness, the 
engine had dashed into some obstruction on the line, a little 
past Coombe Dalton station. It ran up a bank, gave a dance, 
and was forced back on the line, falling sideways, and the 
three foremost carriages, next to the break van, were dragged 
with it. The two first, third-class ones, were greatly injured ; 
the third, a second class, less so, Oliver Jupp, with other male 
passengers, was speediljT- out of his carriage, running forward 
to see what assistance he could render to those, his ill-fated 
fellow-creatures, some of whom were groaning in the death 
agony. 

What a scene it was ! The dark night ; the hissing engine, 
mad instrument of death, but harmless now ; the torches 
brought forward from the station to throw light upon the ca- 
lamity ; the figures, some dead, some dying, lying in the midst 
of the wreck ; the scalded, the wounded, the bleeding ; the 
silent and the still, the moaning and the helpless, the shriek- 
ing and the terrified! Not here, gratuitously to harrow 
feelings and sympathies, will the worst details be given ; and, 
adding no little to the distress and confusion prevailing, was 
the uncontrollable alarm of the uninjured passengers, escaping 
from their carriages and running hither and thither, uncertain 
where to go or what to do. Katterley (as well as other 
stations) was telegraphed to for medical assistance. 

Meanwhile Robert Lake and his wife had sj)ent an exceed- 
ingly sober day. With the passing of the chance of danger, 
Clara’s opinion experienced a sort of revulsion ; and she began 
to think — not so much of how foolish she had been, but of 
how foolish she must appear in the eyes of her practical hus- 
band. She said nothing ; it was the wisest plan ; and he had 


56 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


not alluded to it in any way. Quietly the day dragged on, 
and they sat down to supper in the evening; the dinner hour 
on Sunday being two o’clock. 

It was at this juncture that Mary Jupp burst in without 
any ceremony whatever, neither bonnet on her head nor shawl 
on her shoulders. The news of the accident had spread like 
wild fire and penetrated to the house of the Jupps. Of 
course it had lost nothing in carrying; and Mary Jupp fully 
believed she should never see her sisters or brother again 
alive. 

Oh, Mr. Lake ! — and you to be sitting here quietly at 
supper ! Have you not heard the news ? ” 

They rose up : they saw the state of alarm and agitation 
she was in. Clara caught the infection, and looked as fright- 
ened as her impromptu visitor. Mr. Lake was calm, cool; 
man in general is so. 

What news ? ” he asked. What is it ? ” 

There has been an awful accident to the train at Coombe 
Dalton. Ho particulars positively known, that we can learn, 
but people are saying half the train’s killed and the other 
half wounded.” 

Sit down, sit down,” said Mr. Lake, taking her trembling 
hands. What train ? How did the news come ? ” 

Why, our train ! ” returned the excited girl, bursting into 
tears. The train that Oliver and Louisa and Rose must be 
in. Oh, Mrs. Lake ! was it true that you had a presentiment 
of evil happening to it? — was that really your reason for 
declining to go ? ” 

Clara, deathly pale, had sought the eyes of her husband. 
She was overwhelmed with astonishment and dismay ; with a 
feeling that she could not describe and had never yet experi- 
enced. Had they really escaped danger, accident, perhaps 
death, from that strangely vivid dream of warning? Her 
faculties seemed bewilder^. 

How has the news reached Katterley ? ” repeated Mr. 
Lake, drowning the words about the dream, for he was con- 
scious that a thoughtless slip of his had given the clue to 
Miss J upp. 

telegraph,” she answered; and one of the porters 
ran up to our house to tell it, knowing Oliver and the girls 
went to Guild this morning and took return tickets. The 
station here is already besieged by a crowd. Poor papa is 
pushing his way through it. 


THE ACCIDENT. 


57 


Mr. Lake caught up his hat, when at the same moment who 
should come in but Oliver Jupp. Mary seized upon him with 
a cry. 

l^ow don’t smother me,” cried he to her. First of all, 
we are all right ; you see I am, and Rose and Louy are safe 
and well inside Coombe Dalton Station. My father sent me 
in to tell you; he said you were here ; and he has gone home 
to reassure them.” 

But, Jupp, how did you get to Katterley?” questioned 
Mr. Lake. 

I came on a stray engine. I thought they would all be in 
fits together at home, and I took the opportunity ottered, of 
coming on to stop the alarm. The first person who laid 
hold of me at the station was the poor old governor, pretty 
nearly in a fit himself. It’s an awful accident, though.” 

How was it ? ” Are many hurt ? ” “ Did the boiler 

reall}" burst ? ” 

If you all reiterate questions at me at once, how am I to 
answer? Very few are hurt, comparatively speaking. The 
engine went into something, a truck or trucks I believe, and 
there was a smash. The two first carriages, both third-class, 
are — nowhere, and the passengers I won’t tell you about, Lake, 
before these two girls, for it wmuld spoil their night’s rest. 
The next carriage, a second-class, was damaged, and its 
inmates are bruised, but not much, I think.” 

“And what of the rest of the train?” breathlessly inquired 
Clara. 

“ Hothing. The carriages came to a stand-still on the line, 
and we got out of them.” 

“ Are you sure there is no first-class carriage injured ? ” 
she continued. 

“ Certain. So to speak, there has been no accident to the 
rest of the train, beyond the delay and fright.” 

Mr. Lake looked at his wife and smiled. “ So you would 
not have been one of the injured. Clary, had you been in the 
train.” 

She shook her head. “We have not the full particulars 
yet. Oliver may be deceived.” 

“ It is exactly as I tell you, Mrs. Lake,” said Oliver Jupp. 
“ There is no further damage.” 

“Are you going back to Coombe Dalton ? ” 

“Yes, as soon as I can. But I thought it well to come on 


68 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


and let you know tlie best and worst. Lake, will you go with 
me ? 

Of course/’ he answered. 

The two young men went out together. Mary Jupp ran 
home, and Clara waited the return of her husband. 

It was long past midnight when he came in. They sat up 
talking over the accident; the details which he had learnt, 
and seen. Oliver Jupp had been quite correct in his limit of 
the damage. Mrs. Chester (taking up the suggested notion 
that Clara Lake had stayed away because it was Sunday) had 
sent a very pressing invitation for her and her husband to 
come on the following day, Monday, with the two elder Miss 
Jupps. Mr. Lake delivered i*u to her. 

Will you go, Clara? ” 

Will they go ? ” she reioined. Will they venture ? ” 

Venture ! ” 

After this accident ? ” 

I do not see wdiy they should not. An accident two days 
running w^ould be something remarkable. What about your 
dream ? ” 

Oh, I will go, Robert. Yes. The dream has done its 
office and I shall be ever thankful for it.” 

She spoke the last words reverently. Mr. Lake looked at 
her with surprise. 

Clara, don’t encourage that fancy of yours,” he gravely 
said, his voice taking almost a stern tone. To be supersti- 
tious at all argues a want of common sense ; but to be fool- 
ishly superstitious is a great deal worse. No reasonable 
being, wife of mine, would indulge thatP 

“ What do you call being foolishly superstitious ? ” 

The remark you have just made — that the dream had 
done its office, and j^ou should ever feel thankful for it — is an 
illustration. Had you gone to Guild this morning, you know 
quite well that we w^ere not to have returned until Tuesday, 
therefore should not have been in the train to-night.” 

Something might have occurred to cause us to return,” 
she interrupted. 

Granted — for the sake of the argument. We should have 
travelled in a first-class carriage, as you know ; and there is 
no first-class carriage injured.” 

He paused and looked at her. She could not deny any- 
thing he said, and kept silence. 


THE ACCIDENT. 


59 

Therefore, what possible bearing that dream could have 
had upon the accident, or where could be the utility of the 
warning, which, as you declare, it conveyed to you, not to go 
to Guild, I cannot see/^ 

Neither, it must be confessed, did Clara herself see it ; but 
she did not lose her faith in the dream. Rather belifeved in it 
all the more firmly, in what her husband w^ould have called a 
manner void of all reason. 

The dream, as she looked at it and expressed it, had done 
its work ; and she anticipated the excursion on the morrow 
with renewed pleasure, springing from a sense of relief. 

Alas, alas ! Poor short-sighted mortals that w^e are ! The 
working out of the ill, shadowed forth, was only just begin- 
ning. 

The morning rose brilliantly ; rather too much so, taken in 
conjunction with the heat ; and the day, as it wore on, prom- 
ised to be one of the hottest on record. 

Katterley station was in a bustle not often experienced at 
the quiet little place. People, idlers and others, crowded it, 
bent on a journey of curiosity to Coombe Dalton. The deaths 
from the accident now numbered several, and excitement was 
rife. Report came that the real cause of the calamity was 
giving rise to dispute : on the one hand it was said that the 
driver of the train had dashed through Coombe Dalton station, 
regardless of the w^arning red light, held up as a signal that 
he should stop ; on the other it was maintained that no red 
light had so been held. 

The twelve o’clock train came steaming into the Katterley 
station, where it would stay its accustomed three minutes, and 
those going by it looked alive. A very few passengers got 
out ; a vast many rushed up to take their places. People were 
flocking to Coombe Dalton en masse and would be flocking 
there until public curiosity was sated. 

A porter held open the door of a first-class carriage for a 
party who were struggling on to the platform, one running 
before another ; it consisted of two gentlemen, three ladies, 
and a maid-servant. The porter knew them well and touched 
his cap; Mr. and Mrs. Lake, Oliver Jupp, and his two eldest 
sisters. 

Let us have the compartment to ourselves, if you can 
manage it, J ohnson,” said Oliver in an under tone. The day 
is too hot for crowding.” 


60 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Very well, sir,’^ replied the man. dare say I can con- 
trive it.^^ 

^^But now whereabouts is this carriage?” called out one of 
the ladies, in a hasty and rather shrieking voice, as she looked 
to the right and left; ‘^because, if it's not just in the middle, 
I won’t get in. Pll never put myself towards either end of 
a train again as long as I live.” 

Step in, step in,” cried Oliver to her. You are all 
right.” 

“ Make haste, miss,” added the porter. The time’s up.” 

^^Of course it’s up,” repeated the young lady, who was no 
other than Mary Ann Jupp; and I w^onder it wasn’t up 
before we reached it. This comes of putting off things till 
the last moment. I told you all the clocks were slow and we 
should be late. If there’s one thing I hate more than another, 
it’s the being obliged to rush up and catch a train at the last 
moment ! No time to choose your carriage — no time to see or 
do anything; they may put you in the guard’s van if they 
please, and you not know it until you are off. I dare say we 
have come without our tickets now. Has anybody thought ol 
them ? ” 

In reply Oliver Jupp held up the six bits of cardboard for 
his sister’s satisfaction, and the party settled themselves in 
their seats ; the maid-servant, who was Mrs. Lake’s, entering 
last. 

Why, Elizabeth, is that you ? ” exclaimed Miss Jupp. 

I declare I never saw you.” 

Didn’t you, miss ? ” replied the girl, wdio was very tall 
and thin. “ I w^alked behind you from our house.” 

“I thought it better to bring Elizabeth,” interposed Clara 
Lake, who was looking unusually lovely in her summer dress 
— white muslin with a blue sprig upon it. ^‘Mrs. Chester’s 
servants will be glad of help with so many of us to wait 
upon.” 

Mrs. Chester is the best manager of a house I ever saw,” 
cried the Miss Jupps in a breath. They w'ore alpaca gowns of 
very light green, and hats trimmed with velvet. “Fancy!” 
added Margaret, “ Only two servants, and one of those you. 
may almost call a nurse, for the children require plenty of 
attending to, and yet things seem to go on smoothly. I can’t 
think how she contrives it.” 

“ Trust to Mrs. Chester for contriving,” said Mr. Lake. 
“ She has to do it. Besides, you forget Anna.” 


THE ACCIDENT. 


61 


The carriage held eight. Elizabeth sat at the farther end, 
the seat next to her and tlie seat opposite to her being empty. 
She kept her head close to the open window, looking out. 
Eailway travelling was rare in her experience. The rest 
chatted eagerly, giving themselves up to the pleasure of the 
moment. Something was said about the previous day’s 
sojourn at Guild. 

I hear it was a delightful party,” Mrs. Lake remarked to 
Oliver Jupp. 

We wanted you and Lake to complete it,” he answered. 
^^It’s too bad, Mrs. Lake, to declare off, after having 
promised to go. There was an uncommon nice girl spending 
the day there. She’s to be there again to-day, I fancy.” 

^^Who was that?” inquired Mr. Lake, briskly, who had a 
propensity for liking ^^nice girls.” 

Don’t know who she was, or anything about her,” replied 
Oliver. Your sister called her L3^dia, and I did the same.” 

^^It was a Miss Clapperton,” interrupted Margaret Jupp. 

Louisa and Eose were telling me about her this morning ; 
they took an immense fancy to her.” 

Clapperton ? — Clapperton ? ” repeated Mr. Lake. Oh, 
I know ; a fresh family who have come lately to Guild. Pen- 
elope said she was getting intimate with them. You shall not 
pick out nice girls for me, Juj)p, if you call her one. I saw 
her once : a 3"oung Gorgon in spectacles, with prominent 
eyes.” 

That’s E"ancy Clapperton, the near-sighted one,” corrected 
Mary Jupp, who was one of those ladies who like to put the 
world to rights. It was her sister who was there yesterday, 
and she is a charming girl. Louy and Eose both say so.” 

I hope she’ll be there to-daj", then,” said Mr. Lake. 

She is to be there ; but don’t jmu and Oliver quarrel over 
her. He monopolized her yesterday, I hear.” 

^WYe’ll go snacks,” said Mr. Lake. Or else draw lots : 
which shall it be, Jupp? When does the old Indian Begum 
make her entry ? ” 

'^For shame, Mr. Lake! You do turn everything and 
everybody into ridicule,” exclaimed Margaret. “I’m sure I 
think she will be a delightful acquisition ; so pleasant for your 
sister to have a visitor.” 

“Well, when does she come? Hobody saj^s she won’t be 
an acquisition — for those who can stand Begums. I knew one 
once, and she was awful. She had gold teeth.” 


62 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Margaret Jiipp turned to Clara. 

Why don’t you keep your husband in better order? He 
is incorrigible.” 

I fear he is,” was the answer, given with a gay smile. 

“ Very strange ! ” cried Mr. Lake. “ I can’t get an answer 
to my question : I think it’s somebody else that’s incorrigible. 
When — does — the — Begum — arrive ? I hope that’s plain 
enough.” 

“ Mrs. Chester was talking of her yesterday to me,” inter- 
posed Oliver Jupp. ^^The Begum is expected to make her 
entrance on Wednesday or Thursday.” 

“ When the house shall have been cleared of us sinful 
people,” added Mr. Lake. We are not good enough for an 
Indian Begum. What do you know of this one ? ” 

As good as nothing,” answered Margaret Jupp. ^^That 
is, of late years. Papa and mamma used to know old Mr. 
and Mrs. Finch. He was a lawyer somewhere in London, and 
Angeline was the daughter.’^ 

Angeline !. ” 

That’s her name. Isn’t it a fine one ? ” 

Very,” said Mr. Lake. The baptismal people must have 
foreseen she was destined to be a Begum.” 

The arrival at Coombe Dalton interrupted the conversation. 
Slackening its speed, the train came to a standstill. They in- 
quired of a porter how long it stayed, and understood him to 
say “ten” minutes. So they got out, and heard almost im- 
mediately the train puff on again. The man had said “ two.” 
Lpoking at each other in consternation, a laugh ensued. The 
next train due arrived up at three o’clock, and they could only 
wait. 

Plenty of time now to examine the scene of the accident. 
They were not the only spectators. The battered engine, the 
debris of the carriages were there still — not on the line, but 
drawn away from it. 

“In shutting some trucks on to the other line, one of them 
broke down, and could not be got off before our train came 
up,” explained Oliver Jupp. “ The engine ran into it, and — 
we were done for.” 

“ But how dreadfully careless of the people at the station to 
allow your engine to run into it ! ” exclaimed Margaret. 
“ They ought to have signalled your train to stop.” 

“ They did signal it,” interrupted a strange voice at her 


THE ACCIDENT. 


63 


elbow, and Margaret turned to see tlie station-master, who was 
known to her brother and Mr. Lake. The red lights were 
exhibited at the station, and a switchman waved the red 
signal light up and down, all to no purpose. You observe 
that post,^^ he added, pointing to an iron post or pillar close to 
them, for he perceived she looked as if she scarcel}' understood 
him : that is the night signal-post. When the line is clear, 
a green light is exhibited on it, as a notice that the trains may 
pass : but when it is not clear, a red light is substituted, and 
no train must proceed when the red light is there. Not only 
Tvas the red light, shown there last night, but the switchman, 
alarmed at the train’s coming on so quickly, seized it, and 
waved it to enforce attention. The driver took no notice, and 
came dashing on to destruction.” 

Was he killed ? ” inquired one of the by-standers, a knot 
of whom had gathered round. 

^‘No,” replied the station-master; and his escape is 
regarded as next door to a miracle. He was flung from the 
engine, lay motionless, and was carried off for dead; but it 
appears he was only stunned, and is nearly well this morning. 
He’ll have to stand his trial, of course ; and a good thing for 
him if they don’t bring it in, ^ Wilful Murder ’ — for that’s 
what some of these careless engine-drivers will come to one 
day.” 

The official spoke with a good deal of acrimony. If the 
blame did not lie with the driver, it lay with him^ and some 
hot dispute had been going on already that morning. 

Does the driver deny that the red light was up ? ” asked 
Mr. Lake. 

He denies it, and stands to it,” said the aggrieved station- 
master. He says the green lights were up as usual. The 
man’s a fool.” 

‘‘ He had taken something to obscure his vision, possibly? ” 

^^Well, no. I don’t think he had done that. He is a 
sober man. It is a case of carelessness : nothing else. 
They ‘ go driving on, full pelt, never looking at the signals. 
On these quiet lines of rail, where there’s not much traffic, the 
danger signal is not exhibited for weeks together. They get 
accustomed to see the other, and it becomes to them so much 
a matter of course that it must be there, that they forget to 
look at it at all. That in my opinion, must have been the 
cause of last night’s work, and I see no other possible wa}^ of 
accounting for it.” 


64 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


He turned back to the station as be spoke, and a gentleman, 
who had drawn near, held out his hand to greet the Lakes ^ud 
the Jupps. It was Colonel West, an acquaintance who resided 
at Coombe Dalton. 

Oh, colonel,” exclaimed one of the young ladies, what a 
shocking accident this has been ! ” 

Ay, it has. Seven picked up dead, and four more gone 
this morning ; besides legs, and arms, and backs broken. It 
is awful to think of.” 

And all from one man’s recklessness 1 ” added Mr. Lake, 
with more severity, more feeling, than he generally suffered 
himself to display. As the station-master sa^^s, they’ll not 
be brought to their senses, these drivers, until some of them 
are convicted of wilful murder. I hope the man who drove 
the train last night will get his deserts.” 

The spectators generally, including Oliver Jupp, had 
strolled off in the wake of the station-master, he being the 
one from whom most news was to be expected, and their 
curiosity was craving for it. Colonel West, a keen, sensible 
man of fifty, brought himself to an anchor before Mr. Lake, 
touching him on the waistcoat to command attention. 

Let me disabuse your mind, at any rate. I hear they are 
putting the blame on the driver ; but he does not deserve it, 
and the}’’ must be doing it to screen themselves. 1 know 
nothing of the man ; I never saw him in my life until this 
morning j but I shall stand between him and injustice. 

In what way ? what do you mean ? ” Mr. Lake inquired. 

“They say at the station here that they exhibited the 
danger signal, red, and that the train dashed on regardless of 
it,” said Colonel West. “I went to the inn this morning 
where some of the wounded are lying, and there I found the 
(driver — as they told me he was — on a mattress on the fioor. 

^ How did this happen ? ’ I said to him. ^ I don t know how 
it happened, sir,’ he replied; ‘but I declare there was no red 
signal up to stop me ; the green light was up as usual.’ That 
was the first I had heard about the red light,” continued the 
colonel ; “ but I find the man said true, and that the whole 
blame is laid upon him. How it happens that I was in my 
garden last night when the smash came, just over on the 
other side of the line, and I can bear the man’s assertion out. 
It was the green light that was up, and not the red.” 

“Shameful!” exclaimed Mr. Lake, rising up at once against 


THE ACCIDENT. 


65 


the injustice in his impulsive way. hope, colonel, you. will 
stand by the man.^^ 

You in a}' be sure of that. I’d transport a reckless driver 
for life, if I could, but I would never see an innocent man 
falsely accused.” * 

Having nothing to do with themselves, they strolled into the 
village, such as it was, the colonel with them. At the door of 
the small inn, whose floors had been put into requisition the 
previous night, on the green bench running under the windows, 
sat the driver of the engine, his head tied up with a white 
cloth and his arm in a sling. Colonel West introduced him: 

Cooper, the driver.” Cooper was a man of notoriety that 
day. 

^<Why, Cooper!” cried Mr. Lake in surprise the moment 
he saw the patient, ^^was it you who drove the engine last 
night?” 

Yes, sir, it was me,” replied Cooper, standing up to answer, 
but sinking back at once from giddiness. And I can only 
say I wish it had been somebody else, if they are going to 
persist in accusing me of causing the accident wilfully.” 

Mr. Lake knew him well. He was a young man, a native 
of Katterley, of very humble origin, but of good natural in- 
telligence and exemplary character. It was only about a 
month that he had been promoted to be a driver; before that 
he was a stoker. “I need not have speculated on whether 
the driver was overcome by strong liquor, had I known who it 
was,” said Mr. Lake. 

He tells me he never drinks,” interposed Colonel West. 

“ Hever, sir,” said Cooper. Water, and tea, and coffee, and 
those sort of things, but nothing stronger. I had a brother, 
sir, who drank himself to death before he was twenty, and it 
was a warning for me. This gentleman and these ladies knew 
him.” 

Mr. Lake nodded acquiescence. So they say the red light 
was up, do they. Cooper, and you would not see it?” 

I hear they are saying so at the station, sir; but it’s very 
wrong. There was no other light up but the one that is gen- 
erally up, the green. Should I have gone stearhing on, risking 
death to myself and my passengers, if the danger light had 
been up ? Ho, sir, it’s not likely.” 

Did you look at the signal light?” inquired Mary Jupp, 

4 


66 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


who was always practical. “Perhaps you — you might, you 
know, Cooper — have passed it without looking, just for once.'’ 

“ I did look, miss ; and I couldn’t have been off seeing it last 
night, for it was being swung about like anything. ‘ What’s 
up now,’ I said to myself, ^that they are swinging the lamp 
about like that ? ’ and I thought whoever it was doing it, must 
have had a drop too much.” 

“ But don’t you think you might from that very fact have 
suspected danger?” questioned Mr. Lake. 

“No, sir, not from the green lamp. If they had wanted to 
warn me of danger, they should have swung the red. Any 
way, I’d rather have given my own life than it should have 
happened when I was driver.” 

“ Cooper, I saw the green light swung as well as you ; and 
I shall be happy to bear my testimony in your favor at the 
proper time and place,” said Colonel West. “It is quite a 
providential thing that I happened to be in my garden at the 
time.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said the man, earnestl}^, the tears of 
relief and emotion rising to his eyes. 

Whilijig away the time in the best way they could, they got 
back to the station a few minutes before the train for Guild was 
expected. The accident w^as the topic of conversation still. 

“I have seen the driver,” remarked Mr. Lake to the station- 
master. “ I know him well, a sober, steady man. He persists 
still that the red signal was not exhibited; that it was the 
green.” 

“ Oh, he does, does he ? ” returned the station-master. “ He 
had better prove it. Of course, when they are at their wits 
end for an excuse, they invent anything, probable or improb- 
able.” 

“ Cooper is not a man to invent. I am sure he is truthful.” 

“Let him wait till the inquest,” was the significant reply. 

The train came in, and they were taken on to Guild station. 
From thence they found their way to Mrs. Chester’s, losing 
Oliver Jupp on the road. 

“You disagreeable, tiresome things! what brings you here 
at this late hour ? ” was the greeting of Mrs. Chester, as she 
stood at the door, in no amiable mood, to receive her guests. 
“ You knew w^e w'ere to have dined at three o’clock, and taken 
dessert and tea on the lawn. I have been obliged to order 
the dinner to be put back.” 


THE ACCIDENT. 67 

It was the train’s fault/’ said Mr. Lake. ‘^It deposited 
us half-way and left us.” 

‘^Of course you must put in your nonsense, Robert, or it 
wouldn’t be you,” retorted Mrs. Chester, who could be objec- 
tionably cross when put out, especially to him. Come along 
with me, girls, and take j^our things off. Dinner will be on 
the table in twenty minutes.” 

She led the way to the staircase with scant ceremony. Mr. 
Lake touched her arm. 

A moment, Penelope, just to answer me a question. Is 
Lydia Clapperton here to-day ? ” 

^^Yes,” was Mrs. Chester’s answer, delivered impatiently. 
^^Why?” 

Where is she ? ” 

^^In the garden, I think — or perhaps with the children. 
What do you want to know for ? ” 

Only to get the start of Oliver. He monopolized her 
yesterday, I hear.” 

Where is Oliver?” demanded Mrs. Chester, suddenly 
remembering that he had not come. 

“ Oh ! he went into the town to buy cigars, or something of 
the sort,” responded Mr. Lake, as he turned to the garden, 
glad perhaps to get out of the reach of his sister’s anger. 
That something besides their late arrival had put out Mrs. 
Chester was self-evident. 

Across lawns, over flower-beds, behind trees, went Robert 
Lake, in search of the beauty that to him was as yet a vision 
— Lydia Clapperton. Good chance — or ill chance, just as the 
reader may deem — took him to a small summer-house at the 
end of a shady shrubbery, and in it he discerned a lady sit- 
ing ; young and pretty, he decided in the semi-light. The 
lattice was trellised with the green leaves of summer flowers ; 
roses and clematis clustered at the door. 

He thought, looking at her in the subdued shade, that she 
must be four or five-and-twenty. Her dress was young — 
young for dajdight. A rich black silk with a low body and 
short sleeves, edged by a ruche of white crape, a jet chain on 
her white neck, and jet bracelets. She had very decided 
aquiline features, thin and compressed lips. Her eyes were 
such that would have been called beautiful or hideous, accord- 
ing to the taste or fancy of the spectator : they were large, 
bold, and intensely black. Her hair was beautiful : a smooth 


68 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


purple black, very luxuriant, and disposed in an attractive 
manner round the bead. 

Mr. Lake took a private view through the interstices of the 
green stalks across the lattice. 

“It is Lydia Clapperton,^^ he said to himself; “and a fine 
girl ! 

“ There she is ! ” he began aloud, in his free and somewhat 
saucy manner — a manner that women like, when displaj^ed by 
an attractive man — as he bared his head to enter the summer- 
house, and held out his hand with an abandon of ail ceremony. 

That she was surprised into the putting forth her hand in 
return, was indisputable. She had been intently bending over 
some fancy-work, netting ; and she lifted her head with a start 
at the greeting, and let fall the work. 

Mr. Lake took her hand ; she looked up at him and saw a 
gay fascinating man, gentlemanly in the midst of his freedom. 
Drawing back her hand she sat down again, perfectly self- 
possessed. 

• “ I told Mrs. Chester I should come and look for you,” he 
said, in explanation. “ I have the pleasure of knowing your 
sister, so we need not wait for a formal introduction.” 

“ And you ? ” cried the lady, looking puzzled. 

“ You have heard no doubt, of Mrs. Chester’s brother, the 
scapegrace. She never gives me too good a word. I am out of 
her books again, through keeping her and the dinner waiting.” 

It happened that the young lady had never heard of Mr. 
Lake, as a scapegrace or otherwise. She did not say so, and 
went on with her netting work. 

“Mrs. Chester has been wondering at the non-arrival of 
some friends she was expecting.” 

“ And fuming at it too,” returned Mr. Lake, with a light 
laugh. “We had an adventure. Getting out at Coombe 
Dalton in the supposition that there was plenty of time, the 
train went on without us. I am really sorry, though, for it 
has delayed your dinner.” 

“ Oh ! that is nothing,” was the answer, spoken in a spirit 
of politeness. “I would rather not dine at all than dine 
alone.” 

Mr Lake sat down on the bench, took up her scissors, ‘and 
seemed inclined to make himself at home. She glanced at his 
bright blue eyes, dancing with light gaiety and with admira- 
tion of her fair self. 


THE ACCIDENT. 


69 


think nothing is more pleasant than a country-house 
filled with visitors/’ she observed, tying a sudden break in the 
silk of her work, and holding out her hand for the scissors to 
cut the ends off. 

When they can do as they like,” added Mr. Lake. ^^We 
shall remain until to-morrow night or Wednesday morning, I 
believe, and must make the most of it. And you — do you 
remain long? ” 

My stay is quite uncertain.” 

At least I hope jmu will be here until Wednesday. 
After that there’ll be nothing to stay for; all the pleasure and 
the freedom must end ; liberty will be replaced by restraint.” 

His tone had become serious. She paused again in her 
work, and lifted her eyes to speak. 

What restraint ? ” 

“Mrs. Chester has sold her liberty, to a Begum. Surely 
you must have heard of it! An old Indian Begum, who is 
coming to stay here, and takes possession the middle of the 
week. We must all be upon our good behavior before her. 
No fun to go on then.” 

“ An Indian Begum ! ” uttered the young lady, staring at 
him. 

“ Nothing less formidable, I assure you. She is expected to 
make the journey from town on an elephant. I shall draw a 
sketch of her after dinner for private circulation : shawls, 
fans, woolly hair, and propriety. She’s a widow ; the relict of 
a Sir George Ellis ; we must not so much as whisper before 
her.” 

The lady laughed. 

“Mrs. Chester has laid down rules for our conduct,” he 
went on, in a rattling sort of fashion. “ The last time I was 
at Guild she saw me snatch a kiss from a pretty girl who was 
staying with her ; and a few days ago she appeared at my 
house with an inquiry of what I suppose my Lady Ellis 
would think of such conduct. You have no conception what 
a nightmare this Begum is to me — this old relict of a K.C.B.” 

“ Eeally I don’t wonder. Shawls, fans, woolly hair, and an 
elephant ! Old and ugly ! Did you say ugly ? ” 

“As if a Begum -could be anything else I Not that her 
ugliness or beauty could affect one ; but her interfering with 
the liberty of a fellow — that does it.” 

“But — according to your version — it is Mrs. Chester who 
seems to be interfering ; not the Begum.” 


70 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


It is all the same ; excepting that, for Mrs. Chester we 
should not care, and for the Begum, I suppose, we must. I 
did think of getting a few days’ fishing here this charming 
weather, but that’s over now. I shall never stand that 
Begum — twirling one’s thumbs before her, and speaking in 
measured monosyllables.” 

The young lady bent over her netting ; she had made a 
long stitch. Glancing up, she saw those attractive eyes 
fastened on her. “ Mrs. Chester seems to wish to keep you 
in order,” she remarked, bending them again. 

“ She does. It is her vocation. I listen to her pretty 
dutifully, and when her back’s turned have a good laugh over 
it. Allow me to try and get that knot undone for you ; it is 
giving you trouble.” 

Why, what do you know about netting ? ” she asked, 
gaily. 

“ A great deal. I netted a boy’s fishing-net once. Those 
long stitches are the very plague.” 

A fishing-net ! ” she laughed. Well, perhaps you did; 
but what do you think you could do to this fine silk: you, 
with jmur man’s fingers ? ” 

I can try, so as to save the trouble to you.” He bent as 
he spoke, and attempted gently to draw the work .from her. 
She kept it tight. It really looked as though they had no 
objection, either of them, to lapse into a flirtation, when at 
that -moment voices were heard, and Mr. Lake looked up. 
Passing across the shrubbery, by an intersecting walk, was 
Oliver Jupp, with a jmung lady by his side. She turned her 
head, and stood still for a moment, calling out to Mrs. 
Chester’s children, who were behind, so that Mr. Lake had a 
view of her face. 

‘^Who the deuce has Jupp picked up now?” murmured 
Mr. Lake, in a half-whisper. She’s an uncommon pretty 
girl.” The lady also looked at them, letting her netting fall 
on her lap. 

Do you know who that young lady is ? ” he asked. 

She disengaged the string from her foot, got up, and looked 
from the door. Mrs. Chester’s children ran across the shrub- 
bery with fleet feet and noisy tongues, and the sound of their 
voices faded away in the distance. 

It is a Miss Clapperton. Mrs. Chester introduced her to 
me by that name. Lydia Clapperton, I think, she called her.” 


the accident. 7] 

Mr. Lake stared in his surprise. That Lydia Clapper- 
ton ! ' 

Mrs. Chester certainly called her so.’^ 

Why, then — who are you ? 

? Oh, I am the Indian Begum ; hut I did not come on 
an elephant.^^ 

His pulses stood still for a moment. But he thought she 
was playing a joke upon him. 

You are not — ^you cannot be — Lady Ellis ! ” 

I am indeed. The old relict of Colonel Sir George Ellis, 

K.C.B.^^ 

Hever in all his life had Bobert Lake been so taken to, 
never had he felt more thoroughly confused and ashamed. 
The hot crimson mounted to his temples. Lady Ellis had sat 
down again, and was quietly going on with her work. 

‘^1 humbly beg your pardon. Lady Ellis,’^ he said, standing 
before her as shame-faced as any convicted schoolboy. I 
cannot expect you to accord it to me, but I most sincerely beg 
it.^^ 

I think I must accord it to you,’^ she answered, in a pretty 
tantalizing sort of manner. Your offence was not against 
me, but against some fabled monster of your fancy. You 
shall sketch her still after dinner for private circulation.^^ 

The sound of a gong as she spoke gave notice that dinner 
was ready. Mr. Lake held out his hand with hesitation. 

^^Will you ratify your pardon, Lady Ellis? Will you 
promise to forget as well as forgive ? I shall never forget or 
forgive myself.’^ 

She frankly put her hand into his as she rose. have 
forgiven ; I will promise to forget. But then, you know, you 
must hot convert me into a nightmare.’^ 

“ You a nightmare he impulsively cried, some of his old 
lightness returning to him. “ If 3mu are, it will be one of a 
different kind : a nightmare of attraction,’’ he gallantly added, 
as he offered her his arm. What did you think of me ? 
Did 3mu take me for a wild animal just arrived from the 
savage islands ? ” 

said Lady Ellis ; ^Ghat is what you took the Begum 
for. I found you were under a mistake as soon as you spoke 
of my sister. I have no sister. But what about your inten- 
tion of fishing here ? I am sorry that I should frustrate it.”* 

He bit his lip ; he could not conceal his annoyance. “ I 
thought you proniised to forget,” he softly whispered. 


72 


THE RED COURT F.\RM. 




And so I will.” 

When did j^-ou arrive ? ” 

Only an lionr or so ago. Just in time to dress for din- 
ner.” 

Leaving Lady Ellis in the drawing-room, he ran upstairs in 
search of his wife, and fuund her in the chamber which had 
been assigned them — a pleasant room, looking towards the 
lawn. She was at work : making a dolFs frock for Fanny 
Chester. 

“How hot you look!” she exclaimed, as her husband en- 
tered. “ Your face is crimson.” 

“ My brain is also,” he replied. “ What do you think ? — 
Lady Ellis is here.” 

“ Mrs. Chester told us so. She had a note from her this 
morning, and she herself arrived at two o’clock.” 

“ Clary, I called her the Begum to her face.” 

“ Oh f” 

“ I don’t know what else I didn’t call her : old and ugly 
and a nightmare ; and said she was coming on an elephant. 
In short, I did nothing but ridicule her. You see, I took her 
for that Lydia Clapperton.” 

“ Mrs. Lake’s face turned red in its turn. She was of a re- 
fined, deeply-sensitive temperament, ever considerate of the 
feelings of others. 

“ What apology can you possibly offer, Bohert ? How can 
you make your peace ? ” 

“ I have made it already. She seems thoroughly good- 
natured, and saw the thing as it was — a misapprehension 
altogether. I’d rather have given a hundred pounds, though, 
than it should have happened. Wh}^ couldn’t Penelope open 
her mouth and tell me she had come and was in the gar- 
den ? ” 

He was splashing away at the water, having turned up his 
cuffs and his wristbands to wash his hands, evidently not on 
very good terms with himself. Llis wife put the doll’s frock 
into her little ornamental basket and stood up to wait, watch- 
ing him brush his hair. Then they were ready to go down. 

“ Clara.” 

“ What ? ” she asked, turning round to him. 

“ Don’t speak of this to any one, my darling. It really has 
annoyed me. I do not suppose Lady Ellis will.’^ 

“ Of course I will not.” And he bent his hot face over his 
•yrife’s, and kissed it by way of thanks, 


THE ACCIDENT. 


73 


What is she like asked Clara. 

Young and very good looking/^ 

A knock at the door. Mr. Lake opened it. There stood a 
fair girl of fifteen or sixteen, with soft brown eyes and a pale 
gentle face. Her hair, of a bright chestnut-brown, was worn 
plain, and her voice and manners were remarkably sweet and 
gentle. It was Anna Chester, Mrs. Chester’s step-daughter. 
There was a sort of patient weary look about the girl, as if 
she had long had to do battle with care ; her black merino 
dress, rather shabby, was only relieved by a bit of quilled 
white net round the throat, and plain stitched linen bands at 
the wrists. 

Mrs. Chester sent me to tell you that dinner is being taken 

in.’^ 

^^We are ready for it. Here, Anna, wait a moment,’’ 
added Mr. Lake, drawing her in and shutting the door. 

What brings that Lady Ellis here ? I thought she was not 
to come until Wednesday or Thursday.” 

“Heither was she,” answered Anna. It put us out very 
much this morning when we got her letter, because things 
were not ready. But we did the best we could.” 

That accounts for Penelope’s sharpness,” remarked Mr. 
Lake. But she could not have come from Cheltenham this 
morning, Anna ! ” 

Ho, from London. She left Cheltenham on Saturday, she 
told us, and wrote from London yesterday.” 

How then, you people ! ” called out Mrs. Chester’s voice 
from the foot of the stairs. 

Come along, Anna,” said Mr. Lake. 

Oh, I am not going to dine with you,” was the gir?3 
answer. There would be nobody to see that things went in 
properly, and to wash the forks and spoons.” 

For Mrs. Chester had not sufficient forks and spoons to 
serve for all her courses without washing. The dinner was 
made more elaborate than it need have been, in honor of the 
first appearance of Lady Ellis at table. Anna Chester spoke 
cheerfullj^, with patient meekness, as if* it were her province 
to be put upon ; and Robert Lake muttered an angry word in 
his wife’s ear about Mrs. Chester’s selfishness. 

In the corridor they encountered Mary and Margaret Jupp, 
and all descended together. The party was going into the 
dining-room ; Mrs. Chester had momentarily disappeared ; 


74 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Oliver was laughing with Lydia Clapperton ; Mr. Lake went 
up to him and claimed to be introduced; the Miss Jupps 
seized upon Lady Ellis with greetings and reminiscences of 
old times; and altogether there was some confusion. Clara 
Lake, naturally retiring, slipped into the dining-room behind 
the rest, and took her seat unobtrusively by the side of Eanny 
Chester. So that it happened she was not introduced to 
Lady Ellis. That Indian widow, casting her roving eyes 
around, heard her called Clara once or twice by Mrs. 
Chester, and took her for the governess. A young curate in a 
straight coat down to his heels, made the tenth at table. 

‘‘ Mamma said I was to dine here,’* whispered Eanny, con- 
fidentially to Mrs. Lake, “ or else there would have been an 
odd number.*’ 

Mr. Lake took the foot of the table, and had Lady Ellis on 
his right. They talked together a great deal. Altogether it 
was a very social dinner, plenty of laughing. Anna Chester 
washed up spoons and forks outside the door, kept the little 
boys in order, and saw to things generall3^ 

Dinner over, they went on the lawn, where a table was set 
out with wine and fruit and cakes. But none of them seemed 
inclined to sit down to it at first; preferring to disperse in 
groups, and flit about amidst the walks and flowers. Oliver 
Jupp appropriated Lydia Clapperton, and Mr. Lake was per- 
fectly content that it should be so. For himself he was every- 
where ; now with Mary Jupp; now with Margaret; now with 
his sister ; and now, and now, and now with Lady Ellis. 
Chiefly with her : and she by no means objected to the com- 
panionship. In short it was a delightful, unceremonious, 
laisser-aller sort of gathering, with Mrs. Chester seated in her 
weeds to play propriety, whilst her young boys, left to them- 
selves, got into as much mischief as they possibl}^ could. 

“ And so you found yourself restless at Cheltenham ? ” 
remarked Mr. Lake, as he and Lady Ellis emerged once more 
in the open ground from some one of the many side walks. 

“ I get restless everywhere. India suited me best. It may 
be different, perhaps, when once I settle down.” 

“ I never saw Cheltenham. It is a charming place, accord- 
ing to report.” 

“At this season it is nothing but heat and dust. I did 
intend to stay there until the middle of this week ; but I 
couldn’t do it. I could not, Mr. Lake. So I went up to Lon^ 


THE ACCIDENT. 


75 


don on Saturday night, and wrote word to your sister that she 
must expect me on Mondaj’-.” 

They were crossing the lawn. Seated now near Mrs. Ches- 
ter, at the table, was Clara Lake, who had been beguiled in- 
doors by Fanny Chester to the dolFs frock. That important 
work being accomplished, Clara had come out again. Lady 
Ellis — her black lace shawl draped artistically round her 
shoulders, and her very brilliant black eyes darting their 
glances here and there, fixed their light upon Clara. 

Who is that young lady, Mr. Lake? 

He looked surprised, and then smiled. Don’t you 
know ? ” 

I don’t know who she is. I know that she is one of the 
very boldest girls I ever saw.” 

^^/SAebold!” returned Mr. Lake, in marked astonishment, 
while a flush darkened his cheek, ‘‘ Zou are mistaken, Lady 
Ellis.” 

^^Bold; and unseemly bold,” repeated Lady Ellis. 
speak of that young lady who is now sitting by Mrs. Chester. 
Some of them called her ^ Clara ’ at dinner. I thought she 
might be the governess, but she seems to take too much upon 
herself for that.” 

I understand of whom you speak. But why do you call 
her bold ? ” 

Lady Ellis was silent for a moment, and then lifted her 
head. ^^When we have lived in India, have travelled — in 
short, have rubbed off the reserve and rusticity which experi- 
ence of the world only can effect, we like to speak out our 
opinions, and call things b}^ their right names. Half an hour 
ago 3mu were with her in that walk, talking to her ; she held 
your arm, and she suddenly clasped her other hand over it, 
and kept it there, turning her face up to yours with what 
looked very like ardent admiration. It struck me as being 
not — not seemly.” 

Mr. Lake coughed down a laugh. She has a legal right 
to look in my face as ardently as she pleases : and you may 
fully believe me when I assure you that from her you will 
never witness aught unseemly. That young lady is my wife.” 

^Wour — wife!” echoed Lady Ellis, taken utterly by sur- 
prise.” 

‘^My own wife.” His saucy blue eyes gazed into those 
amazed black ones, enjoying their confusion with an exceed- 
ingly saucy expression. Lady Ellis burst into a laugh. 


76 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


^^Well, I suppose I must beg your pardon now. We all 
seem to be letting ourselves in for mistakes and blunders. I 
thought she was a young girl, and I did not know you were 
married.” 

“ She does look young,” he answered, his eyes following his 
wife’s pretty figure, as she went towards the house with Mrs. 
Chester; ^^nevertheless she has been my wife these three 
years.” 

You must have married early. Is it wise, think you, of a 
man to do so ? ” 

Wise ? — In what respect ? ” 

Repentance might come. Men scarcely know their own 
minds before thirty. 

A great many of us risk it.” 

They sat down at tlie dessert-table, and Mr. Lake helped 
her to some wine and fruit. One of the little boys ran up and 
clamored for good tilings in the absence of his motlier. 
Lady Ellis privately thought that children did not improve 
the social relations of the world. 

Mrs. Chester had taken Clara to look at what she called the 
domestic arrangements, which in reality meant the kitchens 
and back premises in general. Encountering Miss Jupp as 
they went, she turned to accompany them. 

^^Had you come at the time you ought, I should have 
shown you over the house before dinner,” grumbled Mrs. 
Chester, who could not forget the upsetting of her plans. 

^^Of course we were very sorry,” spoke Mary Jupp. “ It is 
so tiresome to put back one’s dinner after it is at the fire. I 
should have been more cross than you, Mrs. Chester.” 

^^What with one thing and another, I have been cross 
enough to-day,” confessed Mrs. Chester, giving a jerk to her 
widow’s cap, which never kept on two minutes together, want- 
ing strings. First of all, this morning, came Lady Ellis’s 
letter to upset me, and with nothing ready for her ! ” 

Why did she come to-day ? ” 

^^Some whim, I suppose. It was a courteous letter of 
excuse — hoping I should pardon her, and begging me not to 
treat her as a stranger. How very handsome she is ! ” 

“Her features are handsome,” rejoined Mary Jupp ; “but 
their expression’s bad.” 

“ Bad ! ” cried Mrs. Chester. 

“ I think so. There’s nothing good or kind in them ; and 


THE ACCIDENT. 77 

she’s eaten up alive with vanity. You must take care of your 
husband, Clara, for she seems to covet his admiration.” 

Clara Lake, who was in advance, looked back and laughed 
merrily. 

“ How can you put such notions in her head ? ” spoke Mrs. 
Chester, severely. E-obert Lake’s manners with women are 
in the highest degree absurd ; but there’s no need for his wife 
to be reminded of it to her face.” 

don’t mind being reminded of it, Mrs. Chester. It 
means nothing.” 

Of course it does not. I only hope Lady Ellis will not 
take offence at him. What age is she^ I wonder — five-and- 
twerity ? ” 

Five-and-thirty, if she’s a day!” spoke Mary Ann Jupp, 
in her strong decision. She is made-up, you know — 
cosmetics and that, and dresses to look young. But just look 
quietly at her when the sun is on her face.” 

But she cannot be that age.” 

I think ^he is. I will ask mamma when I get home . 
she knows.” 

The subject dropped. Mrs. Chester took them round the 
house, and in at the back door, showing one thing, explaining 
another. The larder and the dairy were first entered. 

That is what was once the dairy,” observed Mrs. Chester. 
^^Of course, I want nothing of the sort, not possessing cows. 
It will do to keep herbs and pots and pans in. Tliis is the 
kitchen,” she continued, turning into a large, convenient 
room on the right of the boarded passage. 

‘^Why, it is like print!” exclaimed Mary Jupp, in her 
hasty way. There’s not a speck of dirt about it ; every- 
thing is in its place. How in the world have they got it into 
this order so soon after dinner ? ” 

This is the best kitchen,” explained Mrs. Chester ; they 
cook in the other. Don’t you see that there’s no fire ? We 
shall use this in winter, but while the weather is so hot, I 
like the cooking done as far from the sitting-rooms as possible. 
Earm-houses generally have two kitchens, you know. The 
other is in the yard. You can come and see it.” 

They went out of the room, but Clara did not. She stood 
rooted to the spot, like one in a trance, rather than a living, 
breathing woman. She glanced here, she glanced there ; at 
the doors, the large window, the fire-place \ at the furniture, 


78 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


and position of everything. Her breathing came softly ; she 
pressed her brow to make sure she was awake. 

Mrs. Chester and Mary Jupp came back, and she had not 
stirred: her cheek was pale, her hands were clasped, she 
looked very like a statue. Mrs. Chester began explaining 
where the several doors led to : one down to the cellar, one to 
the coal-house, one to the dairy, and one to a china closet ; 
four in all, besides the entrance door. Both of them were, too 
busy to notice her. 

Are you coming, Clara ? asked Miss J upp, as they went 

out. 

Directly,’^ she replied, speaking quietly. Mary, I wish 
you would find my husband, and tell him I want him here for 
a minute.^^ 

You want to show him what a model place it is,” cried 
Mrs. Chester, complacently. Do so, Clara. He will never 
have such a kitchen in his house.” 

Mary Jupp delivered the message to Mr. Lake, who was 
still at the table, and peeling a pear for Lady Ellis. The 
objectionable boy had disappeared. He came away when he 
had finished his job, leaving the two ladies together. Mrs. 
Chester had hastened in dire wrath after the other of her 
mischievous young sons, who was climbing up a prickly tree, 
to the detriment gf his clothes. 

I had no idea until just now that Mr. Lake was a married 
man,” observed Lady Ellis to Mary Jupp, as she leisurely eat 
her pear. 

^^No ! Then whom did you suppose Mrs. Lake was ? ” 

I did nob suppose anything about it ; I did not know she 
was Mrs. Lake. Have they been married long ? ” 

About three years.” 

Ah, yes ; I think he said so. Any children ? ” 

There was one. A beautiful little child ; but it died. 
Do you not think her very lovely ? It is so sweet a face ! ” 

Lady Ellis shrugged her shoulders. ^^She has no style. 
And she seems as much wrapt up in her husband as though 
they had been married yesterday.” 

Why should she not be ? ” bluntly asked Miss Jupp. 

I only hope when I am married — if ever that’s to be — that 
I and my husband shall be r|k; happy and united as they are.” 

As she is,” spoke Lad}^ Ellis. I would not answer for 
him.” 


THE ACCIDENT. 


79 


Mary Jiipp felt cross. It occurred to her that somebody 
might have been whispering tales about Mr. Lake’s nonsen- 
sical flirtation with her sister itose : and purely innocent 
nonsense, on both sides, she knew that to be. Young Lake 
is one of those men who cannot live without flirtation,” she 
observed, ^^who admire every woman they meet, and take 
care to let her know it. His wife can afford to laugh at it, 
knowing that his love is exclusively hers.” 

Lady Ellis drew down the corners of her mouth and 
coughed a little cough of mocking disbelief ; for which Mary 
J upp, upright and high-principled, could have scolded her for 
an hour. 

So very old-fashioned, those notions, my dear Miss Jupp. 
Love ! ” 

Old-fashioned, are they ? ” fired Mary. 

woman hazards more than she perhaps bargains for, 
when she ties herself, for better or for worse, to one of these 
attractive men : but of course she must put up with the con- 
sequences.” 

What consequences ? ” exclaimed Mary Jupp, feeling her- 
self puzzled by the speech altogether. 

The seeing herself a neglected wife : the seeing others 
preferred before her — as she must inevitably do when her own 
short reign is over.” 

Had you to experience that ? ” sharply asked Mary Jupp, 
intending the question as a sting. 

‘^I!” equably returned Lady Ellis. My husband had 
nothing attractive about him, and was as old as Adam. I 
spoke of the wives of fascinating men : others may humdrum 
on to their graves, and be at peace.” 

don’t see what there is to fascinate in young Lake. He 
is light-headed and careless, if that means fascination.” 

Ah,” superciliously remarked Lady Ellis, playing with 
her jet chain. 

They were interrupted by Margaret J upp, who came up 
with Mrs, Chester. The young lady, hearing of the expedi- 
tion to the kitchens, was not pleased to have been omitted, so 
Mrs. Chester was going to dp the honors again. 

I think there’s nothing so nice as looking over a house,” 
said Margaret. Kitchens have great interest for me.” 

I suppose I may not ask to be of the party ? ” interposed 
Lady Ellis, looking at Mrs. Chester. 


80 


THE RED COURT FA.RM. 


Certainly you may : why not ? ” And they slowly strolled 
across the lawn on the expedition. 

Meanwhile Mr. Lake, in obedience to the summons, had 
found his wife in the large kitchen. She was still standing in 
the middle of the floor, just as though she had been glued to it. 

Did you want me, Clara ? 

^^Do come here,’^ she whispered, in quite an awe-struck 
tone. And Mr. Lake, wondering a little, stepped up and 
stood beside her. Clara, touching his arm, pointed to differ- 
ent features of the room, turning about to do it. 

Do you see them, Dobert ? Do you remember ? 

I have not been in the kitchen before,^’ was his answer, 
after a pause, looking curiously at the room and then at her. 

It is the kitchen of my dream ! 

^^The what?’^ exclaimed Mr. Lake. 

^^The kitchen I saw in my dream.^’ 

He barely stopped an irreverent laugh. What he saw 
upon her face arrested it. 

^Ht is,^^ she whispered, her voice sounding strangely hollow, 
as though some great physical change had taken place within. 

I described its features to you that night, and now you may 
see them. We — we are standing in the same position !” she 
burst forth more eagerly, as if the fact had but that moment 
occurred to her. ^^See! I was here, you on that side me, as 
you are now ; here was the small round dark table close to us ; 
there is the large window, with the ironing-board underneath 
it ; there, to the left, are the dresser and the shelves, and 
even the ver}^ plates and dishes upon them — ” 

Of the precise willow pattern,” put in Mr. Lake. 

There, behind us, is the fire-place ; and around are the 
several doors, in the very self-same places that I saw them,” 
she continued, too eager to notice or heed the mocking inter- 
ruption. “ I told you it looked like a farm-house kitchen, 
large and bleak : you may see that it does, now.” 

“ I shall begin to think that you are dreaming still,” he 
returned. 

I wish I was ! I wish I had never seen in reality the 
kitchen of that dream. I did not at the first moment recog- 
nize it. When I came in with Mrs. Chester and Mary Jupp, 
the place struck me as being familiar, and I was just going to 
say to them, ^ I must have been here before,^ when m}^ dream 
flashed upon me, like a chill. I felt awe-struck — sick ; I feel 
so yet.” 


THE ACCIDENT. 


81 


Tliis beats spirit-rapping,” said Mr. Lake. Let us lay 
hold of the table, and see whether it won’t turn.” 

Why will you turn it into ^ mockery ? ” she resumed, her 
tone one of sharp pain. You know that dream seemed to 
foretell m3" death.” 

I declare to goodness, Clara, you will make me angry ! ” 
was his retort, his voice changing to severitj". What has 
come over jmu these last few days ? ” 

“That dream has come over me,” she replied, with a shiver. 
“ I thought it was done with ; done with by the accident of 
last night ; and now the sight of this kitchen has renewed it 
in all its horror. If 3"ou could, onl}^ for one minute, feel as I 
am feeling, you would not wonder at me.” 

Her state of mind appeared to him most unaccountable : 
not foolish ; that was not the word ; far worse than foolish — ■ 
obstinate and unreasonable. Hever in his life had he spoken 
so sharply to her as he spoke now. Perhaps his recent inter- 
course with that equable woman of the world. Sir George’s 
relict, had given him new ideas. “ I should be sorry to feel it, 
even for a minute ; I should be ashamed to do so : and I feel 
ashamed for 3^ou. What did you want with me ?” 

“ To show you the kitchen. To tell you this.” 

He gave vent to an impatient word, and turned angrily to 
the door. She, her heart bursting, went forward to the win- 
dow. Just so had it been in the dream; just so had they 
seemed to part, he going to the door and she to the window ; 
just so had been her sharp conviction of coming evil. Mr. 
Lake looked back at her ; she had laid her head against the 
wall near the window : her hands dropped down ; in her whole 
air there was an utter agony of abandonment. His better 
nature returned to him, and he walked across the kitchen. 
As he drew her face from the wall he saw that it was white, 
and the tears were running down her cheeks. 

“ Clara,” he exclaimed, as he took her to himself, “ must I 
treat 3^ou and soothe you as I would a child ? ” 

“Ho, treat me as jonv wife,” she passionately answered, 
breaking into a storm of sobs. 

He suffered her to sob for a few moments, until the 
paroxysm had spent itself, and then spoke ; in a tone of re- 
monstrance, it is true, but with deep tenderness. “ Is it pos- 
sible that you can allow a foolish superstition, a dream, to 
cause this wild grief ? ” 

5 


82 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


It is not the dream that is causing the grief. You are 
causing that : you never so spoke to me : when T said it might 
foretell my death, jon turned my. words into ridicule. It is as 
if you do not care whether I live or die.^^ 

Clara, you know better. What can I do for you ? How 
can I soothe you ? 

^^Do not speak to me in that tone again.” 

My dearest, I will do anything you wish in reason ; you 
know I will, but you must not ask me to put faith in a dream. 
And if my voice sounded harsh — why, it would vex any man 
to find his wife so foolish.” 

Well, well, it shall pass ; I will not vex you with it again. 
If any ill does come, it must ; and if not ■” 

^^If not, you will acknowledge what a silly child you have 
been,” he interrupted, kissing the scalding tears from her face. 

Silly, and superstitious, if you will,” she whispered, but 
not a child. I think I am less a child at heart than many 
who are older. Robert, if you ever grew unkind to me, I 
should die.” 

‘‘ That I never shall, my darling.” ^ 

Standing outside the half-opened door, taking a leisurely 
survey through the chink, was Lady Ellis, having come noise- 
lessly along the passage matting ; not purposely to deceive, 
she was not aware there was anything to see, but her foot- 
steps were soft, her movements had mostly sometliing cat-like 
about them. She saw his face bent on his wife’s, and heard 
his kisses, all but heard his sweet words ; heard quite enough 
to imagine them. An ugly look of envy, or something akin 
to it, rose momentarily to her pale features. Legitimate love 
such as this had never been hers. Mr. Lake was what slie 
had called him, an attractive man. He had that day paid her 
attentions, said sentimental nothings to her in a low voice ; 
and there are some women who would fain keep such men to 
themselves, whether they may have wives or not; nay, their 
having a wife is only an inducement the more. Was Lady 
Ellis one ? 

Tlie smile changed its character for that of mockery. It 
flashed into my lady’s mind that this little domestic scene was 
one of reconciliation after dispute, and that the dispute must 
have had its natural rise in those recent attentions paid to her- 
self. The voices of Mrs. Chester and Margaret Jupp were 
heard approaching, and she made her safe way back to them. 


V 


RED OR GREEN. 83 

Let it pass, let it pass, Glara,’^ Mr. Lake said hastily to 
his wife, hearing the voices also. dear, there is no reason 

in your fear. What harm do you suppose can arise from your 
visit here ? There is no chance of a breakdown again as we 
go home.^^ 

^^It is just that — that I cannot see any probability of harm. 
But I gave you my word just now to say no more about the 
matter, and I will keep it.^’ 

Come and walk in the air, it will do you good. Your eyes 
are as red as if you had been crying for a day, Clara.’^ 

Lady Ellis pushed the door open and came in, followed by 
the others. Mrs. Chester began expatiating upon the conveni- 
ences of the kitchen, its closets and cupboards, and Mr. Lake 
and his wife slipped away. My lady, looking from the win- 
dow, saw him pass it towards the kitchen garden, his wife 
upon his arm. 


CHAPTEE V. 

RED, OR GREEN? 

The inquest on those killed by the railway accident took 
place on the Tuesday morning, lumbers were attracted to 
the spot, impatient to hear the evidence. Eeports had been 
busy as to the conflicting nature of the testimony expected to 
be given, and excitement was at its height. While one party 
openly asserted that Cooper, the driver, was falselj^ trying to 
whiten himself, and so avoid punishment for his careless- 
ness ; the station-master was less loudly accused of having 
been the one in fault, and with taking away the man’s 
character.” 

Amidst the crowd, meeting at Coombe Dalton, were Mr. 
Lake and Oliver Jupp: the one went from Guild, the other 
from Katterley. Oliver Jupp, with his sisters, said adieu to 
Mrs. Chester on the Monday evening, and returned home : 
Mr. Lake and his wife stayed at Guild. Curiosity or interest 
in the proceedings, or opposition in their own opinions, took 
them both. Mr. Lake felt certain that Cooper spoke truth in 


84 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


saying the green light was exhibited, not the red ; would have 
been ready to stake his life upon it. Oliver Jupp, relying 
upon his own eyesight, upheld the side of the station-master. 
Each one had maintained tenaciously his own opinion when 
discussing the alfair at Mrs. Chester’s; and they would not 
have missed the inquest for the world. 

In the largest room that the small inn at Coombe Dalton 
could afford, the coroner and jury assembled, and proceedr 
ings commenced. About the cause of death there could be 
no doubt ; and it needed not the testimony of old Dr. Marlow 
of Katterley, who had been the first doctor to arrive at the 
spot on the Sunday night, to prove it. However, the require- 
ments of law must be obeyed, and he was th^re with sundry 
of his brethren. JSText came the evidence as to the cause of 
the accident. 

The station-master, one porter, and a switch-man,” com- 
prised the ofiicials who had been at the station on the Sunday 
night. They all gave their testimony in a very positive and 
unequivocal manner : that the red lights were exhibited to 
give warning of danger, and that the train, in reckless defi- 
ance of the red, came dashing on, and so caused the 
catastrophe. 

What was the danger ? ” officially inquired the coroner. 

Some trucks were on the line just beyond the station, and 
had to be shunted,” replied the station-master. Three 
minutes would liave done it; and the train would not have 
been kept waiting longer than that, had it only stopped.” 

What brought the trucks on the line just as the train was 
expected to pass ? ” 

“ They couldn’t be shunted before, because the coal wagons 
were in the way.” 

Why were the coal wagons there just then ? ” 

Because an engine had gone on and left them there.” 

And so on ; and so on — engine, and coal wagons, and 
shunting, and trucks. It was like “ the house that Jack 
built.” Nobody had been in fault, apparently, or done any- 
thing wrong, except the miserable train that had dashed on 
to its destruction, and its still more miserable driver, Matthew 
Cooper. 

Cooper came forward and asked leave to give his evidence. 
The coroner cautioned him ; he thought he had better not ; it 
might be used against him. But Cooper persisted ; and he 


RED OR GREEN. 85 

stood there to say what he had to say, his pale face, sur- 
rounded by its bandages, earnest and anxious. 

ni say nothing but the truth, sir. If that is to be used 
against me, why I can’t help it. I’d not tell a lie even to 
screen myself.” 

He took his own course, and gave his evidence. It was to 
the effect that the green lights were exhibited as usual that 
night, not the red. The coroner felt a little staggered. He 
knew Cooper to be a steady, reliable, truth-telling man. One 
of the witnesses observed, as if in continuation of what Cooper 
had just said, that Mat Cooper wouldn’t tell a lie to screen 
himself from nothing.” The coroner had hitherto believed 
the same. 

^^Did you look at the lights?” he asked of Cooper. 

I looked at both, sir. The lamp that was at the near end 
of the station, and the lamp on the signal-post beyond it.” 

^^And you say they were the green lights?” 

That they were, sir. The same green lights that are 
always up. He had taken the light off the post, and was 
swaying it about, and I couldn’t conceive what he was doing 
it for.” 

But here are three witnesses, the station-master and the 
two men, who have sworn that the red signals were up, and 
not the green,” persisted the coroner. “ It is very strange 
that you should maintain the contrary.” 

The three may be in a league together to say so, and hide 
their own negligence,” audibly interposed the voice of some 
zealous partisan from the most crowded part of the room. 
Upon which the coroner threatened to commit anj^body so 
interrupting, for contempt of himself and the court. 

^^All I can say is, sir, that there was no difference, that 
night, in the lights from those exhibited on other nights,” 
returned Cooper. They were the green lights, and not the 
red ; and if I had to die the next minute, I’d say it.” 

Wliich was altogether unsatisfactory to the coroner and 
puzzling to the jury. Most of them knew Cooper well, and 
would have trusted him; his voice and face, now as he spoke, 
bore their own testimony to his truth. On the other side, the 
three station people, who were not to be discredited, gave him 
the lie direct. 

Did you see the red light swung about ? ” continued the 
coroner. ' 


86 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


“ No, sir. I saw the green ; and I couldn’t think what it 
was being swung about for.” 

Cooper held to this, and nothing more could be got from 
him — that is, nothing to a different effect. He would have 
descanted on its being the green light until night, had the 
coroner allowed him. When he was done with, a gentleman 
presented himself for examination. It was Colonel West. 

Can you state anything about this matter, Colonel ? ” 
asked the coroner, when he had exchanged bows with the 
voluntary witness. 

Yes, I can, if you will allow me to be sworn.” 

And sworn he was. 

In anxiety to see justice done to the driver, I have come 
here to offer my testimony,” began the colonel, addressing the 
coroner and jury. ^^I am enabled to state that the light 
exhibited on the signal-post, and which the man took down 
and swayed about, was green. When the driver asserts that 
it was not red, he speaks the truth.” 

Some excitement. The coroner drew in his lips, the jury 
put their heads together. Colonel West stood bolt upright, 
waiting to be questioned. 

Were you at the station?” inquired the coroner of the 
witness. 

No ; I was in my garden, which is precisely opposite the 
signal-post on the other side of the line. I was walking 
about in it, smoking a cigar. I heard the train approaching, 
and I saw the man take the lamp off the post, lean forward, 
and swing it about, evidently to attract attention. A minute 
afterwards the accident happened.” 

And you say this was not the red light ? ” 

It was not. It was the light that is generally up, the 
green.” 

The coroner gave an expressive look at the station-master, 
which spoke volumes, and tlie latter looked red and indignant. 
Colonel West reiterated his assertion, as if willing that all 
should be impressed with the truth, and with the injustice 
attempted to be dealt to Cooper. Then he stood down. 

There ensued a commotion : at least, if numerous tongues 
can constitute it. The coroner inteposed to stop it and restore 
order. When the noise had subsided, Oliver Jupp was stand- 
ing by the table in Colonel West’s place. One of the jury 
inquired of him why he was put forward. 


KKD OR GREEN. 


87 


I don’t know/’ returned Oliver. Somebody pushed me 
up. I happened to mention that I saw th^ light in question 
exhibited and swayed about : I suppose it is for t hat.” 

Oh, you saw it, did you,” said the coroner. ‘^Swear this 
witness.” 

Oliver Jupp took the oath accordingly, and the coroner 
began. ^ ^ ^ V ' " 

Which light was it, the red or the greeiT? ” 

The red.” 

There was a pause. Perhaps more than one present 
thought of the old fable of the chameleon. The room fixed 
its eyes on Oliver Jupp. 

From whence did you see it ? ” demanded the coroner, 
was in the train returning from Guild. As we got to 
Coombe Dalton station I looked out at the window, and saw* a 
red light being waved about. I remarked it to my sisters, 
who were in the carriage with me, and one of them observed 
that if it was the red light there ^must be danger. The 
accident occurred almost as she spoke.” 

^^Are you sure it was the reck, light, sir?” inquired one of 
the jury, all of whom had been so particularly impressed with 
Colonel West’s evidence. 

Certain.” 

^^And of course he could have no motive in saying any- 
thing but the truth,” remarked the juryman to another, who 
seemed in a state of perplexity. 

I a motive ! ” haughtily observed Oliver, taking up the 
words. I am put here simply to state \vhat I saw, I expect ; 
neither more nor less. I am sorry to give evidence that may 
tell against Cooper, who is respected in Katterley, but I am 
bound to say that it was the red light.” 

“ Don’t you think you might have been mistaken, sir ? ” 
came the next query; for Oliver Jupp’s word, a young and 
little man, bore less weight than Colonel West’s, who counted 
five-and-fifty years, and stood six feet two in his stockings. 

I was not mistaken. It was the red light.” 

Colonel West was recalled. What else could they do in 
the dilemma? He stood forward, and Oliver Jupp hid his 
head amid the ignoble crowd close behind. 

With an apology for the apparent doubt, the same question 
was put to him. Did he think Vie could have been mistaken 
in supposing the light was the green. 


88 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Kot a bit of it/^ the colonel answered, with good-humored 
equanimity. Th^ lights exhibited that night were the same 
that always w ^^ Ex hibited — green. The light he saw swa^’^ed 
about was t](e greens 

^‘Well/V exclaimed the coroner, there’s hard swearing' 
somewherA” 

And haM^swea^g there certainly appeared to be. As a 
spectator audibl^^e marked, “ one could not find an end out of 
it.” The coroner got impatient. 

It is impossible at the present stage to come to any satis- 
factory conclusion, gentlemen of the jury,” he observed ; “ and 
I think we had better adjourn the inquiry, when other wit- 
nesses may be forthcoming.” 

Adjourned it was accordingly for a fortnight. 

But for Colonel \\^st they’d have had it all against me,” 
remarked Cooper, who was feeling himself wronged. 

“But for Colonel West there’d have been no further 
bother,” cried the ag^f^ed station-master, who thought 
Cooper ought to have beeft^ copimitted for trial on the spot. 

It was certainly singular that the only two witnesses, apart 
from those interested, should testify so positively in exact 
opposition to each other. As the spectators poured out of the 
inquest-room, they formed into knots to discuss it. Neither 
the one nor the other had any interest to favor the station 
people or to screen Cooper ; and, indeed, both were above sus- 
picion of anything of the sort. Colonel West had never 
before heard of Cooper; Oliver Jupp knew him, and was 
evidently sorry to give evidence against him. On the other 
hand, Oliver Jupp did not know the station-master, while 
Colonel West was friendly with him. 

“ Will you go back with me to Guild, and stay the rest of 
the day ? ” asked Mr. Lake, putting his arm within Oliver 
Jupp’s. 

“ Can’t,” returned Oliver. “ Promised them at home to get 
back with the verdict as soon as it was over.” 

“ But there is no verdict.” 

“All the same; they’ll want to know the why and the 
wherefore.” 

“As if you could not keep the girls waiting for once ! ” 

“ It’s not the girls, it’s the old folks ; and Guild has no 
charms for me to-da}^ Lydia Clappertoii’s gone.” 

Mr. Lake laughed. “I say, Jupp, how could you swear so 
hard about the lights ? ” 


RED OR GREEN. 


89 


They swore me. I didn’t ask for it.’^ 

I mean against Cooper.” 

“ You would not have me say the light was green when it 
was red ? ” 

“Colonel West says it was green ; he was close to it.” 

“ Moonshine,” quietly repeated Oliver. “ What on earth 
causes him to say it I can’t make out. Look there ” — ^liolding 
out the end of the cigar he had lighted, and was smoking — 
“ what color do you call that ? ” 

“ Red. All the world could tell that.” 

“ Why don’t you say it’s green ? ” 

“ Because it is not green.” 

“ Just so. Neither was the red lamp.” 

Cooper is a reliable man ; I don’t believe the poor fellow 
would tell a lie to save himself from hanging ; and Colonel 
West is of known honor ; both of them assert that the lights 
were green.” 

“I swear that the light exhibited and swung about was 
rec?,” retorted Oliver J upp. “ There ; let it drop. Are you 
and Mrs. Lake coming home to-night ? ” 

“ No. It was uncertain what time I might reach Guild after 
the inquest, and Mrs. Chester seized upon it as a plea for 
urging us to remain another night. She wants us to stay for 
the week, but I don’t think we shall. Clara seems rather 
averse to it.” 

They parted at the station. Oliver Jupp taking the train 
for Katterley: and with him we have nothing more to do at 
present. Mr. Lake got into the train for Guild. 

Upon arriving at Mrs. Chester’s lie found the house empty. 
Going from room to room in search of them, he at length came 
upon Anna Chester, mending socks and pinafores. 

“ Where are they all ? ” 

“ I think they have gone to see the late rose shew,” she 
said ; “ there’s one in the town to-day.” 

He stood by while she folded some pinafores she had 
finished. Her hands were quick ; her sweet face was full of 
patient gentleness. 

“ It is not the right thing for you, Anna.” 

“ It is pleasant work. I have been obliged to be useful 
all my life, you know.” 

“I don’t mean that. Why should you be left at home, 
while they all go to a flower-show ? ” 


90 


THE RED COTTRT FARM. 


A bloom, bright as any rose in the famous show, shone in 
the girl’s cheeks. She loved flowers, and looked up with a 
happy expression. 

‘^Perhaps time wdll be found for me to go to-morrow; 
mamma said so. It will be only sixpence then.” 

And to-day it’s a shilling, I suppose ? ” 

Yes.” 

Mr. Lake nodded his head once or twice in a rather marked 
manner, but did not give utterance to his thoughts, whatever 
they might be. Anna resumed. 

“ I do all the work I can — of sewing and other kinds. It 
has cost mamma so much to get into this house, with the new 
things she has been obliged to buy, that she says she is nearl}’- 
ruined. With Lady Ellis here, and onlj'- two servants, 'sve 
could not get along at all but for my looking to everything.” 

Mr. Lake went oif muttering something about Penelope’s 
selfishness. That Anna was put upon quite like another 
Cinderella he* had long known, and his sense of fairness rose 
up against it. 

“ If the girl was a tyrant she’d not have stood it for a day,” 
he cried, as he flung himself down on a bench and raked the 
gravel with his cane. A meek temper is a misfortune.” 

A short while, and he heard the keys of the piano touched 
in the drawing-room ; a soft, sweet, musical voice broke out 
gently in song. He knew it for Anna’s. She had finished her 
wmrk, and was snatching a moment for music, having come in 
to get the table ready for tea. The open piano tempted her. 
Mr. Lake listened through the song — an old one ; and put his 
head in at the window as she was rising. ‘ 

Sing another for me, Anna.” 

She started round with a blush. To believe you are sing- 
ing for yourself, and then find you have an audience, is not 
agreeable. 

Oh, Mr. Lake ! I did not know you were there.” 

Just another, Anna.” 

cannot sing for you. I know only old songs.” 

They are better than the new ones. The one you have 
just sung, ^ Ye banks and braes,’ is worth any ten that have 
been issued of late years.” 

I feel quite ashamed to sing them before people ; I am 
laughed at when I do. Lady Ellis stopped her ears this 
morning. Papa loved the old songs, and did not care that I 
should sing new ones ; so I never learnt any.” 


RED OR GREEN. 


91 


He took up a book of music much worn, Old songs/^ as 
Anna called them. Her mother used to sing them in her 
youth, and the E-everend James Chester had learnt to love 
them. Robin Adair,” The Banks of Allan Water,” 

Pray Goody,” The Baron of Mowbray,” She never 
blamed him,” The Minstrel-bo}",” and many others. 

It was in his hand, and Anna stood looking over his 
shoulder, laughing at what Mrs. Chester sometimes called the 

ancient bygones.” On the table lay a drawing that Anna 
had done, betraying talent ; the more especially when it was 
remembered that she could never sit to that, or anything else, 
for five minutes at a time. Up and down continually : called 
by Mrs. Chester, called by the children, called by the servants. 
She had never had a lesson in drawing in her life, she had 
never learnt to sing ; what she did do was the result of native 
aptitude for it. 

Mr. Lake had the drawing in his hand when the party • 
entered, trooping in unceremoniously through the window, the 
children first. Lady Ellis’s black-lace shawl was draped 
around her in its usual artistic fashion, and she wore a bonnet 
that could not by any stretch of imaginative politeness be 
construed into a widow’s. Clara was with her, her refined 
face bright and radiant. The two were evidently on good 
terms with each other. 

Mrs. Chester did not enter with them. Her household 
cares worried her, now that things must wear a good appear- 
ance for the new inmate. Lady Ellis. She came in presently 
from the hall, a cross look on her face, and spoke sharply to 
Anna. Selfish naturally, made intensely so by her struggle 
to get along, Mrs. Chester appeared to think that for her step- 
daughter to be in the drawing-room and not in the kitchen, 
though it were but for a few minutes in the day, was a 
heinous crime. 

Robert,” she said, addressing her brother, I wish you’d 
come up to my room while I take my bonnet off. I have a 
letter to show you.” 

He followed her dutifully, just as he used when he was a 
little boy and she a woman grown. Mrs. Chester’s room, which 
she shared with Fanny, was small and inconvenient. Sweep- 
ing a host of things off a chair to the floor in her untidy way, 
she graciously told him he might sit there, but he perf erred to 
perch himself on a corner of the dressing-table. 


92 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


torn to pieces with indecision and uncertainty,” she 
began, taking a letter from a drawer. “ I begin to think now 
it might have been better had I adhered to my first thought — 
that of taking pupils. Only look at the thing I have missed ! ” 
He held out his hand for the letter, which she struck as she 
spoke. In her dictatorial manner she preferred to read it to 
him, and waved his hand away. 

‘‘ The Red Court Fai*m, Coastdown. 

Madam, — I have been advised to write to you by my 
friends here. Captain and Mrs. Copp. They think you are 
making arrangements to receive half-a-dozen first-class pupils 
to educate with your own daughter. I am in search of some- 
thing of' the sort for my daughter. Miss Thornycroft, and it is 
possible that your house may be found suitable. She will 
require the best advantages, for which I shall expect to pay 
accordingly. 

With your permission I will drive over one of these first 
days and see you. 

^^And I am, madam, 

“ Your obedient servant, 

Harry Thornycroft. 

“ Mrs. Chester.'^ 

Who is Harry Thornycroft ? ” were Mr. Lake’s first words 
when her voice ceased. 

I should have been as much at fault to know as you, but 
for a note Anna has had from Mrs. Copp, giving a little expla- 
nation. Mr. Thornycroft is the great man of Coastdown, it 
seems ; a country magistrate, very influential, and very rich. 
Mrs. Copp thinks he would pay quite two hundred a year with 
his daughter.” 

^‘•And Mrs. Copp — who is she?” repeated Mr. Lake. 
And where in the name of geography is Coastdown ? ” 

‘‘We shall never get on if you bother like this,” returned 
Mrs. Chester, irascibly. “ Mrs. Copp and Anna’s mother were 
related ; and Coastdown is a little place on the sea, about two- 
and-twenty miles from here. Only fancy — only think — two 
hundred a year with the first pupil ! If I only got three 
others at the same terms there’d be eight hundred a year at 
once — a thousand with my own income. It would be quite 
delightful.” 


RED OR GREEN. 93 

But that’s reckoning your chickens before they are 
hatched.’’ 

“ I might have known that you’d throw some mocking 
slight upon it,” was the angry retort. 

mocking slight at all, Penelope. I do not mean it as 
such. Of course, if you could get four or six pupils at two 
hundred a year each, it would be a jolly good thing. Only — I 
fancy pupils on those terms are not so readily picked up.” 

One^ at any rate, seems ready to drop into my hands. 
Should Miss Thornycroft not he placed with me after this, I 
shall look upon life as very hard.” 

Can’t you take her, should they offer her to you, and trust 
to good luck for finding others ? ” 

“ Then what am I to do about Lady Ellis ? ” 

Keep her also, if she will stay.” 

But she would not. I sounded her this morning. Kot as 
if I had a personal interest in the question. Anything like a 
school was her especial abhorrence, she said. She’d not enter 
a house where- teaching was carried on for the world.” 

So that you have to choose between the young lady with 
her two hundred a j^ear and Lady Ellis ? ” 

“ In a sense, yes. But I have a difficult game to play. It 
strikes me that at the very first mention of a 'probable pupil 
Lady Ellis would take fright and leave. Kow, you know, 
Bobert, I have not got Miss Thornycroft yet, or even the 
promise of her ; and it might happen that the negotiation 
would drop through. Where should I be in that case, with 
Lady Ellis gone ? ” 

“ On the ground, fallen between two stools,” was Mr. 
Bobert Lake’s irreverent answer. 

It angered Mrs. Chester ; but she had an end to serve, and 
let it pass. 

“ I want you and your wife to do me a favor, Bobert. Stay 
here for a w^eek or two with us, paying me, of course ; you 
know what my circumstances are. My heart would be good 
to keep you, but my pocket is not. I am so afraid of Lady 
Ellis finding the place dull. She has come for a month to see 
how she likes it. I forget whether I told you this yesterday. 
On Mondajq when we were talking together after her arrival, 
she said to me, ^ You will allow me to stay a month to see if 
the place will suit me : if it does, we will then make our 
agreement.’ What could I say ? ” 


94 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


And you fear it may not suit her ? 

I fear she vYill find it dull. She said this morning she 
thought the house would he triste hut for the presence in it of 
Mr. and Mrs. Lake. Now, you do me a good turn, and stay a 
week or two.’^ 

“ rd stay fast enough, Penelope — there’s the fishing ; but I 
don’t know about Clara. You must talk to her.” 

Yon must talk to her,” returned Mrs. Chester. No- 
body else has a tenth of the infiuence over her that you 
have.” 

I’ll see,” said Mr. Lake, alighting from the dressing-table. 

We’ll stay a day or two longer, at any rate : I know I can 
promise that.” 

Mr. Lake went straight to his wife, and recounted to her, 
word for word as nearly as he could recollect, what Mrs. 
Chester had said. There was nothing covert in his disposition : 
his fault, if it was a fault, was undisguised openness. But he 
did not urge the matter one way or the other. Clara looked 
grave at the proposition, and he left it to her. 

I said we would remain a day or two longer, Clara. I 
thought you would not object to that, as it is to do her, as she 
fancies, good.” 

‘‘ I don’t mind staying to the end of the week, Bohert, now 
we are here. We will go home on Saturday'-, if you like.” 

All right.” And Mr. Lake strolled away in his careless 
lightness. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

JUSTICE THORNYCROFT’s VISIT. 

The days passed pleasantly enough : Lady Ellis made her- 
self agreeable, Mr. Lake was always so ; and Clara nearly 
forgot her dr-eam. On the Friday morning, a hot hut cloudy 
day, Mr. Lake went out to fish. Lady Ellis and Fanny 
Chester strolled after him ; and Mrs. Chester took the oppor- 
tunity to — as she phrased it to herself — tackle” Clara. 
That estimable and managing matron beguiled the young lady 


JUSTICE thornycroft’s yisit. 95 

into the quiet and secluded nursery — a room above, that the 
children were never in — and there burst into a flood of tears 
over her work, the darning of a tablecloth, and laid her un- 
happy case bare in the broad light of da3^ 

“ Only another week after this, my dear Clara ! If you 
would but consent to stay ! Think what my position will be 
should Lady Ellis quit me ! 

Clara hesitated. Just the same instinct arose within her 
against staying at Guild, that in the first instance, the evening 
before the dream, had arisen against going to it. But slie 
was gentle, young, pliable ; it seemed to her that refusal would 
be an unkind thing, and she could not form her lips to say it. 

Would another week’s stay make so very much difference 
to Lady Ellis, think you, Mrs. Chester?” 

dear good soul, it would make all the difference. 
She’ll have become accustomed to the place then, and will not 
care to leave it.” 

“ Well — I will talk to E-obert when he comes in.” 

Of course — if you wish. But you know, Clara, the de- 
cision lies entirely with you. He will do what you suggest. 
How, my dear, do picture to yourself the difference in our 
positions, yours and mine, and be hard-hearted if you can. 
You with your happy home to return to, 3mur three servants, 
and your six hundred a year ; and I with my poor pittance, my 
toiling life, and my heap of children ! ” 

Mrs. Chester showered tears upon the tablecloth in her lap, 
and Clara Lake felt that she was in for it. 

“ If you and Eobert will remain two weeks with me from 
the day you came, I shall be thankful. — My goodness me ! 
who’s that ? ” 

Mrs. Chester alluded to the clatter of some steps on the 
stairs, and the entrance of two ladies. Unfortunately for 
Clara Lake, they were Mary and Margaret Jupp. In high 
spirits, and with their usual volubility, they explained that 
they had a commission to execute at Guild for their mother, 
which gave them the opportunity of paying a flying call at 
Mrs. Chester’s. 

Hot so very flying ; for the young ladies took off their 
bonnets and made themselves comfortable for an hour or two. 
Mrs. Chester — craftily foreseeing what valuable allies these 
W’ould prove — melted into tears again, and renewed her request 
to Mrs. Lake. Abandoning pride and its reticence, she 


96 


THE TIED COURT FARM. 


openly explained what a boon to her, poor distressed woman, 
it was that she was craving for, and avowed her poverty, and 
the terms on which Lady Ellis had come to her. The Miss 
Jupps had known all about it before, as Mrs. Chester knew, 
but she took advantage of the situation. 

They did the same. .In their open good nature, and they 
had no other motive, they urged Clara to the promise. On 
the one hand, there would be the service to Mrs. Chester ; on 
the other, a delightful holiday for Mr. and Mrs. Lake. Borne 
along on the stream of persuasion, assailed on all sides, Clara 
Lake felt that all power of resistance was taken from her, and 
she yielded to the stream. 

Yielded to the stream, and gave the promise. 

The Miss Jupps were clapping their hands at the victory, 
when Mr. Lake entered. Mrs. Chester explained the 
applause, by saying that dear Clara had promised to remain a 
fortnight at Guild. 

Have you ? he asked, turning to his wife. 

Yes ; I have been over-persuaded,^^ she replied, with 
rather a sickl}^ smile. 

The Miss Jupps applauded again, and a happy thought 
struck Mr. Lake ; or an unhappy one. You can decide which 
as the historjT- goes on. 

It had been in contemplation to throw out a bay window in 
their dining-room at Katterley. A dark room and rather 
small, Mr. Lake and his wife had both decided that it should 
be altered. This, as it seemed to him, was the very time to 
set about the alteration. They had thought of deferring it 
until spring, but it would be a good thing over; and he 
intended to have some of his Yorkshire friends up for Christ- 
mas. Approaching his wife, he spoke to her in a low tone. 

Begin the alteration now ! — while we are here ! she 
exclaimed, in surprise. But, Robert ! how long will they be 
over it 

About a fortnight. They may begin and end it in that 
time.^^ 

Do you think so ? ” 

^^Bm sure so,^^ he answered, carelessly and confidently, 
^^ril make Peters put it in his contract. Why, Clara, what 
is it ? just the throwing out of a window? They might do it 
in a week if they chose. But just as you like, my dear.” 

Again, hearing the conversation, Mrs. Chester and the 


JUSTICE TIIORNYCROFt's VISIT. 


97 


Miss Jupps joined in, taking wholly Mr. Lake’s view of the 
matter. The only one who spoke with an interested motive 
was Mrs. Chester : the others were as honest as the day iu 
what they said — honest in their inexperience. 

And Clara was borne down once more in this as in the last, 
and agreed to the alteration being begun. 

It won’t be much more than putting in a fresh window 
frame,” decided Margaret Jupp. 

Ho more shilly-shallyings now, no more questions of 
whether they should go or not. Mr. Lake went over that same 
afternoon to Katterley, in attendance on the Miss Jupps ; saw 
the builder, Peters, and had the work put in hand. On the 
Saturday he and his wife both went over, to return in the 
evening. 

It was a sultry midday. Lady Ellis sat on the lawn under 
the shelter of a spreading lime-tree, whose branches had been 
more redolent of perfume a month or two ago than they were 
now\ 

The sky was cloudless, of a dark hot blue ; the summer 
petals, clustering on the flower-beds, opened themselves to the 
blistering sun. Lady Ellis was alone with her netting. 
She wore a black silk gown and a little cap of net, all the 
more coquettish for its simplicity, its plain lappets hanging 
behind. Her work proceeded slowly, and finally she let it 
fall on her knee as one utterly weary. 

What a life ‘it is here ! ” she murmured in self-commune. 

Say what they will, India is the paradise of women. Where 
means are in accordance ; servants, dress, carriages, horses, 
incessant gaiety, it may be tolerable here ; but where they are 
lacking — good heavens ! how do people manage to exist ? ” 

The world has gone hard with me,” she resumed after a 
pause. Two years of luxury to be succeeded by stagnation. 
I’d never have married Colonel Ellis — no, though he did give 
me a title — had I supposed his money would go to his children 
and not to me.” 

Another pause, during which she jerked the netting-silk up 
and down. 

And this house ? shall I stay in it ? But for that young 
man, who is rendering it bearable, I don’t think I could. 
This managing clergyman’s widow, with her flock of young 
ones, she is a study from nature — or art. Ah well, well ! a 
month or two of it, and I shall go on the wing again.” 

6 


98 THE BED COURT FARM. 

Closing her eyes, as if weary with the world’s view, Lady 
Ellis remained perfectly still, until the sound of rapidly ad- 
vancing wheels aroused her. Looking up, she saw a very 
handsome carriage, a sort of mail phaeton, dash up to the 
gate. The gentleman driving got out and assisted down a 
girl of fair beauty, who had sat by his side ; the groom having 
sprung round to the horses’ heads from the seat behind. 

They came up the path, and Lady Ellis looked at them. 
An exceedingly fine man, of middle age, tall and upright, 
with a handsome face still, and clear blue eyes. The girl was 
handsome too, she wore a beautiful dress of training silk, and 
a hat with blue ribbons. We have met them before — Mr. and 
Miss Thornycroft. 

Looking about, as if seeking for the door of entrance, or for 
some one to receive them, their eyes fell upon Lady Ellis. 
She could do nothing less than advance to the rescue. Miss- 
ing the turning that led by a shady path to the door, they 
could see only windows. Mr. Thornycroft raised his hat. 

I have the honor of speaking to Mrs. Chester ? ” 

Lady Ellis laughed slightly at the supposition, and threw 
back her head, as much as to say it was a ridiculous and not 
flattering mistake. 

No, indeed. I am only staying here.” 

Mr. Thornycroft bowed in deprecation ; Miss. Thornycroft 
turned her head slightly aside and took a look at the speaker. 
There was a slight contraction on that young lady’s queenly 
brow as she turned it back again. 

Out of an upper window, surveying the new guests, survey- 
ing the carriage being driven away by the groom to the 
nearest inn, was the head of Mrs. Chester; her cap olf, her 
hair untidy, a cross look in her wondering eyes. Who were 
they, these people, interrupting her at that unseasonable 
hour ? Strange to say, the truth did not strike her. They 
were underneath the windows, and she could take her survey 
at leisure. 

Lady Ellis, quite capable of doing the honors of reception, 
ushered them into the drawing-room through the open window. 
At the same moment Anna Chester came forward in her poor 
frock and with her sweet face. Mr. Thornycroft had laid a 
card on the table, and she glanced at it in passing. Her man- 
ners were calm, self-possessed, gentle ; an essentially lady-like 
girl in spite of the frock. 


JUSTICE THORNYCROFT’s VISIT. 99 

I will tell mamma that you are here/’ she said, when they 
were seated ; and she quitted the room again. 

Had I seen that young lady first, I should not have com- 
mitted the mistake of taking you for Mrs. Chester,” spoke 
Mr. Thornycroft in his gallantry. 

Lady Ellis smiled. That young lady is not Mrs. Chester’s 
daughter, however. Mrs. Chester’s children are considerably 
younger.” 

Anna meanwhile was going upstairs. Mrs. Chester, doing 
something to the inside of a bed, had her black dress covered 
with fluff, and her hair also. She turned sharply round when 
Anna entered. 

Mamma, it is Justice Thornycroft.” 

What 'with the startling announcement — for Mrs. Chester 
took in the news at once — and what with the recollection of 
her own state of attire, Mrs. Chester turned her irritability 
upon Anna. It was provoking thus to be interrupted at her 
very necessary work. 

‘^Justice Thornycroft ! What in the world possesses you to 
call the man that, Anna Chester ? ” 

Mrs. Copp called him so in her letter to me, mamma.” 

Mrs. Copp’s a fool,” retorted the bewildered lady. “ Justice 
Thornycroft ! One would think you had been bred in a wood. 
Who do you suppose uses those obsolete terms now ? What 
brings him over here to-day ? ” 

She put the question in a sharp, exacting tone, just as if it 
were Anna’s business to answer it, and Anna’s fault that he 
had come. Anna quietly went to a closet and took out Mrs. 
Chester’s best gown. 

To come on a Saturday ! Hothing was ever so unreason- 
able,” groaned Mrs Chester. ‘‘ Here’s all the flock and the 
down out of the bed, and I covered with it. Look at my 
crape ! Look at my hair ! I took off my cap because those 
bothering lappets got in my way.” 

You will have your gown changed in two minutes, mamma, 
and I will smooth your hair.” 

Mrs. Chester jerked the gown out of Anna’s hands. One 
of those active, restless woman, who cannot bear to be still 
while anything is done for them, was she ; and began to put 
it on herself, grumbling all the while. 

^^Hothing ill the world ever happened so contrary. Of all 
things, I wanted, if these Thornycrofts did come over, to keep 


100 


THE RED COUBT FARM. 


them from Lady Ellis. Once let her get an inkling of their 
business, and she’d be off the next day. And there they are, 
shut up with her. I dare say she knows it all by now.” 

Oh, mamma, it is not likely Mr. Thorn3xroft would speak 
of it to her.” 

Indeed ! That’s your opinion, is it ? Give me the hair- 
brush.” 

She brushed away at her hair, Anna standing meekly by 
with a clean cap ready to put on. Mrs. Chester continued 
her catalogue of grievances. 

“ It is the worst day they could have come. All things are 
at sixes and sevens on a Saturday. The children are dirty, 
and the plate’s dirty, and the servants are dirty. They must 
have luncheon, I suppose — or dinner, for that’s what it will be 
to them, coming this long drive. Mr. Thornycroft can possess 
no sense to take me by storm in this manner. Anna, I hope 
you did not proclaim to them that you were a daughter of the 
house,” she added, the thought suddenly striking her. 

Anna’s face flushed. She had spoken of Mrs. Chester as 

mamma,” and when she went in Lady Ellis had said, “ This 
is Miss Chester.” Under the stern gaze now bent upon her, 
poor Anna felt as if she had committed some not-to-be-atoned- 
ibr crime. 

In that wretched frock of yours ! You have not the least 
sense of shame in you, Anna. Over and over again I have 
said you were born to disgrace me. Why could you not have 
passed yourself off for an upper maid or nursery governess, or 
something of that sort ? Or else kept out of the way alto- 
gether.” 

It never struck Anna Chester that the reproach was un- 
merited j it did not occur to her to petition for a better frock, 
since that one was so shabby. She had a better, kept for 
Sundays and rare holidays ; to put it on, on a week-day, unless 
commanded to do so, would have been an astounding inroad 
on the order of things. Eeared to self-sacrifice and privation, 
that sacrifice and privation that a poor clergyman — a good, 
loving, but needy gentleman, must practise who has the care 
of those poorer than himself — Anna Chester had lived but to 
love and obey. When her father gained his living (that looked 
so wealthy in prospect), and the new wife — this present Mrs. 
Chester, now bending her eyes condemningly upon her — came 
home close upon it, Anna’s habit of submission was but slightly 


JUSTICE THOKIS YCitOE'i'V VISIT. 


101 


changed. Formerly she had yielded whollj^ to her father in 
her intense respect and love ; now she had to yield to her 
step-mother in exacted, unquestioning obedience. She never 
thought of repining or rebelling. Brought up to think her- 
self of no earthly consequence, as one whose sole mission in 
life it was to be useful to others, doing all she could for every 
one and ignoring selt^ it ma}^ be questioned if any young 
girPs spirit had ever been brought to the same state of perfect 
discipline. ^N^ever in her whole life had Anna rebelled at a 
request or resisted a command ; to be told to do a thing was 
to obey. But for her naturally sweet temper, her utter want 
of selfishness, and the humble estimation imparted to her of 
herself, this could hardly have been. She stood there now, 
listening repentantly to the reproaches, the disparaging words 
of her second mother, and accepted them as her right. That 
lady, a very pharisee in her own opinion, gave a .finishing 
twitch to her widow^s cap, to her collar, to the weepers on 
her wrists, took the broad hem-stitched handkerchief that 
Anna held in readiness for her, and turned to leave the room. 

What shall I do now, mamma ? came the meek question. 

Do ? — ay to be sure,^’ continued Mrs. Chester, recalled by 
the words ; why, you must go to the kitchen and see what 
sort of a lunch can be sent up. I had ordered the cold fowl 
and ham with salad, and the cold mutton for you and the 
children. The mutton must be hashed now; very nicely, 
mind ; you can cut it up yourself : and the veal cutlet that 
was intended in for dinner, must be dressed with herbs, tell 
ISTanny ; and some young potatoes. The tart can come in and 
the cream, and — and that will do. I shall make it our dinner, 
apologizing privately to Lady Ellis for the early hour, and caP 
it luncheon to the Thornycrofts.^^ 

Are the children to be at table ? 

Certainly not. What are you thinking of? You must 
keep them with you. The miserable thing is, that Elizabeth 
went back with the Lakes this morning ; she’s so respectable 
a servant to be seen behind one’s chair in waiting. Tell 
Dinah to put on her merino gown, and make herself tidy.” 

Away went Mrs. Chester to the drawing-room, the cares of 
the many orders and contrivances on her shoulders, and away 
went Anna to the kitchen to see to the execution of them, to 
aid in their preparation, to keep in quietness by her side (an 
exceedingly difficult task) the noisy children. Little did Mr. 


102 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Thornycroft, bowing to the comely and well-dressed widow 
lady who introduced herself as Mrs. Chester, think of the 
trouble the advent of himself and his daughter was causing. 

Mrs. Chester had accused him of possessing no sense. He 
possessed plenty, and also tact. As Mrs. Chester remained 
silent as to the object of his visit, ignoring it apparently 
altogether; rather boasting of how glad she was to make their 
acquaintance, to see them there for a da}’’s change; he said 
nothing of it either. IMrs. Chester was on thorns though all 
the while, and talked rather at random. Lady Ellis was 
content to sit. displaying her charms, and to put in a word or 
a smile here and there. Mr. Thornycroft said something 
about going to the hotel for luncheon. 

Oil, but surely 3"ou will remain and take luncheon with 
me ? ” said Mrs. Chester, with as much empressement as 
though she had a larder full of good things to send up. 

Would you prefer that we should do so?” asked Mr. 
Thornycroft. 

He put the question quite simply. Luncheon and other 
meals were provided for so munificently in his own house, it 
did not occur to him that his remaining could cause embar- 
rassment in Mrs. Chester’s. That lady answered that it 
would give her great pain if they departed, and Mary Anne 
Thornj^croft took off her hat. Turning to place it on a side- 
table, she saw a very fine piece of coral there, shaped some- 
thing like a basket. 

“ Oh, papa, look at this !” she exclaimed. “It must be the 
fellow-piece to the one at Mrs. Connaught’s.” 

“ What Connaughts are those ? ” asked Lady Ellis, briskly. 
“ I knew a Mrs. Connaught once.” 

This Mrs. Connaught, who had lived about two years at 
Coastdown, proved to be the same. Lady Ellis noted down 
the address in her pocket case. 

Later, when all had dispersed, Mrs. Chester seized on her 
opportunity. 

“ I think we can have a few minutes alone now, Mr. 
Thornycroft, if you wish to speak to me. May I flatter my- 
self that 3mur visit to-day is to make arrangements for placing 
your daughter under my charge ? ” 

“ Madam, I came to-day not to make arrangements, — that 
would be premature, — but to ascertain if possible whether 
such arrangements would be suitable,” he replied in his open 


JUSTICE THORNYCROFT’s VISIT. 


103 


manner. “ I do wish very much to find an eligible home for 
my daughter, where she may complete her education and be 
happy. Captain and Mrs. Copp, — some connection of yours, 
I believe 

Of my late husband’s,’’ interposed Mrs. Chester, quickly, 
as though not willing to claim connection with Captain and 
Mrs. Copp ; that is, of his first wife’s. I don’t know them 
at all.” 

Ah, indeed; very worthy people they are. Well, madam, 
Mrs. Copp spoke to me of you ; The widow, she said, of the 
Reverend James Chester, of Guild. I had some slight knowl- 
edge of him in early days. You were intending to take some 
pupils on the plan of a private family, Mrs. Copp said, and 
she thought it might suit Miss Thornycroft.” 

Yes,” replied Mrs. Chester, scarcely knowing what to 
reply in her uncertainty of plans, did think of it.” 

And do you wish still to carrj^ it out ? ” 

Yes, oh yes ; if I could get the pupils.” 

“ I had better tell you what I require for my daughter,” 
observed Mr. Thornycroft. She must be in a family where 
the habits and arrangements are essentially good ; not the 
scanty, coarse provision generally pertaining to a school. She 
must be well waited on, well fed, well treated ; her companions 
must be the daughters of gentlemen ; her education must be 
continued on the same liberal scale as that on which it has 
been hitherto conducted. And I should wish her to get 
from the lady principal that good, conscientious, careful train- 
ing that is rarely given except by a mother.” 

Is she well advanced for her age ? In music, for 
instance ? ” asked Mrs. Chester, after a pause. 

Very well. She plays the harp and piano, sings, and has 
begun harmony. German and French she speaks well ; but 
all that you can inquire into yourself. In saying that her 
education must be liberal, the word is sufficiently comprehen- 
sive.” 

And for these advantages what sum would you be prepared 
to pay ? ” 

Whatever was asked me, madam, in reason — in reason, of 
course. I am at my ease in the world in regard to money, and 
shall qertainly not spare it on my only daughter.” 

Mrs. Chester’s mouth watered. She was sure she had heard 
of such a thing as three hundred a year being asked in a case 
like this, and given. Time enough for terms, though, yet, 


104 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


^^Miss Thornycroft has hitherto been educated at home, I 
believe ? ” 

She has ; but she is getting beyond the control of her 
governess, Miss Derode, and I think she would be better at 
school for the next year or two. A good soul, poor Miss 
Derode, as ever lived, and thoroughly accomplished ; but 
Mary Anne has begun to laugh at her instead of obeying her. 
That won’t do, you know.” 

Mrs. Chester sat twirling the crape of her dress between 
her fingers in thought. Presently she looked at Mr. Thorny- 
croft. 

Have 3mu thought of any sum that might be suitable — 
for the advantages you require ? ” 

“ I should think about two hundred a year. I would give 
that.” 

^^Very fair,” murmured Mrs. Chester. Of course, any 
little extras — but that can be left for the present. I should 
like much to take her.” 

For this sum I should expect commensurate advantages,” 
continued Mr. Thornycroft, in his straightforward, candid way. 

At present I do not see — you will forgive me, madam — that 
you are at all prepared for such a pupil. You have no pupils, 
I think?” 

Hot 3m t.” 

“And I should wish my daughter to have companions, 
young ladies of her own age — -just three or four, to reconcile 
her to being away from home, the notion which she does not at 
all relish. A resident governess would also be essential — 
unless indeed the ladj^ superintendent devoted her whole time 
to them.” 

“ Yes, yes ; a resident governess, of course,” mechanically 
answered Mrs. Chester. 

What more might have been said was arrested by the 
entrance of the youngest child, his pinafore and mouth smear- 
ed with treacle. Clamoring for bread and treacle, Anna had 
given him a slice to keep him quiet. In the midst of eating 
it he had broken awa^^, ungrateful boy, and rushed into the 
presence of Mrs. Chester. Dinah, who had not got on her 
merino gown yet, or made herself tidy, came and carried him, 
kicking, away again. Mrs. Chester was depressed by the ac- 
cident, and sat subdued. 

“I think, madam, that if you carry your intention out, the 


JUSTICE THORNYCROFt’s VISIT. 


105 


better way will be for you to write to me as soon as you are 
ready to receive pupils/^ said Mr. Thornycroft. I will then 
consider the matter further, and decide whether or not to send 
you my daughter. There is no great hurry ; Miss Derode has 
not left us.^^ 

You will not promise her to me ? 

I cannot do that, Mrs. Chester,’’ was the ansv^er, given 
with prompt decision. Until I see that arrangements would 
be suitable, that the home would be in all respects desirable, 
I can say no more.” 

Mrs. Chester sighed inwardly, and felt from that moment 
she must resign hope — Miss Thornycroft and her liberal pay 
would not be for her. But she suffered nothing of this to 
appear, some latent aspiration might be lingering yet, and she 
rose up gaily and shook Mr. Thorny croft’s hand in a warmth 
of satisfaction, and said the matter, left so, was all that was 
to be desired. 

And then they took luncheon — Mrs. Chester, Lad}" Ellis, Mr. 
and Miss Thornycroft. Some fruit was set out on the lawn 
afterwards, and coffee was to follow. Lady Ellis did the 
honors of the garden to Mr. Thornycroft, nothing loth ; 
walking up this path with him, down that ; halting to sit on 
this rustic bench, entering that shady bower. A very charm- 
ing woman, thought Justice Thornycroft. 

Miss Thornycroft was left to the companionship of Mrs. 
Chester. And that young lady, with the freedom she was ac- 
customed to make known her wishes at home, asked that 
Anna Chester might join tliem. 

I promised Mrs. Copp to take word back of her welfare, 
and what sort of a girl she was,” said Mary Anne. How 
can I do so unless I see her ? ” 

With outward alacrity and inward wrath, Mrs. Chester dis- 
appeared for a moment, and sent a private telegram to Anna 
that she was to dress herself and come out. In five minutes 
the girl was with 'them. She came with the coffee. Her 
black silk dress (made out of one of Mrs. Chester’s old ones) 
was pretty ; her face was flushed with its refined, delicate 
color, her brown eyes sparkled with their soft brilliancy, her 
chestnut hair was smooth and pretty. Essentially a lady was 
Anna now. Justice Thornycroft, coming up then for the 
coffee with Lady Ellis, took her hands in his and held her 
before him. 


106 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


My dear, I can trace in you a great likeness to your 
father. It is just the same refined, patient face.’’ 

Ere the words were \^iell spoken, the brown eyes were wet, 
the sweet lips were quivering. The less of her father, so in- 
tensely loved, had been Anna’s great grief in life. A chance 
reminiscence, such as this, was more than she could bear. 

Did you know papa, sir ? ” she asked, looking bravely up 
through the tears. 

I knew a little of him many years ago, and I once or 
twice saw your mother. You must come and pay us a visit at 
Coastdown.” 

A glad light in the gentle face. 

“ I should like it very much, sir. Mrs. Copp has already 
invited me to go to them ; but I cannot be spared.” 

You must be spared ; I should like you to come,” spoke 
Mary Anne, imperiously, with the tone of one who is not ac- 
customed to have her slightest wish disputed. But the wait- 
ing coffee and Mrs. Chester turned off the subject. 

The clock was striking five when the punctual groom ap- 
peared with the carriage. Down it came with grand commo- 
tion, its fine horses fresh after 'their rest, and stopped at the 
gate. The whole party escorted Mr. and Miss Thornycroft to 
it : Mrs. Chester and Anna, the children, tidy now and on 
tolerable behavior. Lady Ellis and her fascination. Promises 
of future friendly intercourse were exchanged. Mr. Thorny- 
croft gave a positive undertaking to drive over again and 
spend another day, and they took their places in the carriage. 
Away went the horses in a canter, rather restive ; the justice, 
restraining them, had enough to do to raise his hat in farewell 
salutation ; the groom had a run ere he could gain his seat 
behind. And they started on their long drive of three-and- 
tweiity miles. 

At the same moment, appearing from an opposite quarter, 
came Mr. and Mrs. Lake and Elizabeth on their return from 
Katterley. They were near enough to see the carriage go 
swiftly off, but not to distinguish its inmates. Mrs. Chester 
and the rest waited for them at the gate. 

Have you had visitors, Penelope ? ” asked Mr. Lake. 

Yes. And very cross and contrary I felt it that you were 
not here,” continued Mrs. Chester, who was proud of her 
good-looking brother. It is Mr. Thornycroft and his daugh- 
ter — they have been with us ever since twelve o’clock. To 


GOING FISHING. 107 

tliink that you were away ! I am sure Clara would have 
liked Miss Thoruycroft.^^ 

To think that they were away ! — that the two ladies spoken 
of did not meet ! One of them at least would deem it a 
chance missed^ a singular fact, in the. years to come. 


CHAPTER VII. 

GOING FISHING. 

A CHILLY evening. The hot days of August have passed 
away ; this is October, and the night is turning out raw and 
misty. But in Mrs. Chester’s house warmth and light reign, 
at least in the inhabited rooms of it. 

In one of them, a moderate-sized, comfortable apartment, 
whose windows opened to the ground, the large fire had 
burned down to a red glow, after rendering the atmosphere 
unpleasantly warm ; and a ladj", seated in a lounging chair, 
had pushed it quite back, so that she was in the shade both 
from the light and the fire. A look of perplexity, of care, sat 
on her face, young and lovely though it was ; even in her 
hands, as they lay listless on her lap, there was an air of 
abandonment. But that the room was growing dusk and dim 
in the autumn twilight, that sadness might not have been 
suffered to show itself, although she was alone. 

It was Clara Lake. Her thoughts were buried in a painful 
retrospect — the retrospect of only the two past months. They 
had brought grief to her : as the summer did to the unhappy 
girl, told of in that beautiful ballad Anna Chester sometimes 
sung, “The Banks of Allan Water.” 

Had any one warned Clara Lake the previous August, 
when she came to Mrs. Chester’s for a two days’ visit, that 
the sojourn would not be one of days but months, she had 
simply disbelieved it. Even when the term was extended to 
a proposed fortnight — a fortnight in all — she would have 
laughed at the idea of staying longer. But she had stayed. 
She was here still. Nevertheless, things had so turned out ; 
all easily and naturally, as it seemed, to look back upon. As 


1C8 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


it seemed to her now, sitting in her chair, and tracing the 
course of past events. 

The alteration in their house at Katterley, as proposed by 
Mr. Lake, and which was to be completed in ten days or a 
fortnight, was begun in due course — the throwing out of the 
dining-room by means of a hay window. He and his wife 
went over one day to see the progress of the work. It was 
then suggested — whether by the builder, by her husband, by 
herself, or by all three jointly, Clara could not to this hour 
recollect — that, to make a complete job of it, the window in the 
chamber above should also be thrown out. The additional 
expense would be comparatively little, the improvement great ; 
and it was agreed to on the spot. Orders were also given for 
the drawing-room and their own chamber to be painted, re- 
papered, and decorated. 

Won’t it take a long time?” Clara suddenly asked. 

About a month, if they work well ; certainly not more,” 
replied Mr. Lake. 

He must have known little of workmen, to speak so confi- 
dently. Builders, carpenters, painters, decorators, are not 
fai^ous for working themselves thin through over-hurr3^ The 
popular saying, “ If once you get them into your house, you 
never get them out,” seemed to be exemplified in this one in- 
stance. Here was October come in, and Katterley Lodge was 
as far off being ready for reception as ever. 

It would have been a slight grievance, the detention, to Mr. 
and Mrs. Lake — not any, in fact, to him — for Mrs. Chester’s 
house was an agreeable one, and they had no home ties ; but 
Lady Ellis was making the stay insupportable to Mr. Lake’s 
wife. 

Tolerably young, showy, very handsome according to the 
taste of many, exacting attention, living but in admiration, 
and not scrupulous how she obtained it provided she got it. 
Lady Ellis had begun to cast her charming toils on the care- 
less and attractive Robert Lake in the very first hour of their 
meeting. Not to eat him up ; not intending certainly to be 
eaten herself ; only to be her temporary slave, pourfaire passer 
le temps. In that dull country house, where there was no 
noise or excitement but what arose from its children. Lady 
Ellis wanted something to make the time pass. 

Mr. Lake was perfectly ready to meet her half-way. One 
of those men who, wife or no wife, consider a flirtation with a 


GOING FISHING. 


109 


prettj woman — and with ' one not pretty, for the matter of 
that — a legitimate occupation in their idle life, he responded 
to her advances gallantly. Neither of them had any idea of 
plunging into shoals and quicksands; let us so fu* give both, 
their due. A rather impressive clasp of the hand ; a pro- 
longed walk in the glowing beauty of the summer’s day ; an 
interchange of confidential talk, meaning nothing — that was 
the worst, thought of by either. But then, you see, the mis- 
chief is, that when once these things are fairly embarked in 
the course entered upon and its midway post reached, down 
you glide, swimmingly, unwittingly ; and it is an exceedingly 
difficult matter to turn back. Good chance (to call it so here), 
generally sends the opportunity, but it is not always seized 
upon. 

The flirtation began. There were walks in the morning 
sun, shady garden chairs for rest at noontide, fingerings in 
the open air by twilight, that grateful hour after a sultry day. 
There were meetings indoors, meetings out; singing, talking, 
netting, idling. Mr. Lake went fishing, his favorite pastime 
just now, and my Lady Ellis would carry his luncheon to 
him ; or stroll down later, wait until the day’s sport was at an 
end, and stroll home with him. One or other of the children 
was often with her, serving to satisfy the requisites of pro- 
priety, had friends been difficult. 

None were so. For a whole month this agreeable fife went 
on, and nobody gave it a care or a thought. CertainljT- Clara 
did not. She was accustomed to see her husband’s fight 
admiration given to others ; never yet had a suspicion crossed 
her mind that he had more than admiration to give. That 
his love was exclusively hers, to be hers for ever, she believed 
in as fully as she believed in heaven. 

Well, the month passed, August, and September was entered 
upon. The flirtation (to call it so for want of a better word), 
had grown pretty deep. The morning walks were frequent ; 
the noontide restings were confidential, the twilight fingerings 
were prolonged to starlight. The songs became duets, the 
conversation whispers ; the netting was as often in his hands 
as hers, and the silk purse did not progress. Mr. Lake drove 
Lady Ellis out in the stylish little open carriage, conveniently 
made for two persons and no more, that he was fond of hiring 
at Guild. One day Fanny Chester went with them ; my 
lady’s dress got crushed, and of course the inconvenience 


no 


THE BED COURT FARM. 


could not be allowed to occur agaiil. Twice a week she rode 
wdth him, requiring very much of his care in the open country 
for she said she was a timid horsewoman. In short, they had 
plunged into a whirligig round of days that was highly 
agreeable to the two concerned. 

Sharp-eyed Mrs. Chester — nearly as sharp as Tady Ellis 
herself, but more honest — saw quite well what was going on. 

Don’t you go and make a fool of j’^ourself with that woman, 
Eobert ! she said to hiai one da,y, which sent Mr. Lake into 
a fit of laughter. He thought himself just the last man to do 
it. And on went the time again. 

Imperceptibly — she could not remember how or when it 
first arose — a shade of annoyance, of vexation, stule upon 
Mrs. Lake. Her husband was always with Lady Ellis ; 
except at meals and at night, he \vas never with her ; and she 
began to think it w^as not quite right that it should be so. 
Crafty Mrs. Chester — honest enough in the main, but treacher- 
ous in this one matter — was on thorns lest Clara should take 
alarm and cause an outbreak ; which would not have done at 
all. She did what she could to keep alarm off, and would 
have to reconcile it to her conscience in later days. Mr. and 
Mrs. Lake paid her well, and that was also a consideration. 

Clara, dear, it is so good of your husband to help me,” 
she would say, or w^ords similar. He has never been a true 
brother to me until now. Were it not for him I am sure Lad}^ 
Ellis would die of ennui in this place,. He keeps her amused 
for me, doing what he can to make her days pass pleasantly. 
I shall be ever thankful to him.” 

Once, and once only, Clara went to the fishing stream after 
them. It was a mile and a half away, the one they had gone 
fishing in that day. They ! Lady Ellis had a costly little 
rod now, bought for her by Mr. Lake, and w^ent with him. 
Clara, having nothing better to do in the afternoon, uneasily 
conscious of the advent of incipient jealousy arising in her 
heart, thought she would join the party. Her husband had 
never asked her to do so at any time ; upon her hinting that 
she should like to fish too, he had stopped tlie idea at once : 
^^No, she would be too fatigued.” Mrs. Lake, it w^as true, 
w^as not strong ; heat and fatigue knocked her up. Mrs. 
Chester iiad been crafty from the first. One day in the early 
stage of the afiair, seeing her husband and Lady Ellis sitting 
together in the shade at noontide, Clara w^as innocently step- 


GOING A FISHING. 


Ill 


ping out at the window to sit too, when Mrs. Chester inter- 
posed to prevent it. Good gracious, Clara ! don’t go stealing 
out like that. They may think you want to hear what they 
are saying — out of jealousy.” And the word jealousy” 
only caused an amusing laugh to Clara Lake then ; but she 
remained indoors. Well, on this afternoon, she started for the 
stream, taking Master James Chester in her hand. Master 
James abandoned her en route, going off on his own devices, 
and she was alone when she reached them. A deliciously 
shady place she found it ; the chance passers-by beyond the 
trees at the back few^ and far between. Both were sitting on 
the bank, attending to their lines, wdiich were deep in the 
water. They looked round with surprise, and Lady Ellis 
was the first to speak. 

Have you come to look after us, Mrs. Lake ? ” 

Innocent words, sufficiently courteous in themselves, but not 
in the tone with which they w^ere spoken. There w^as a mock- 
ing under-current in it, impljdng much ; at least, Clara fiincied 
so, and it brought the red flush of shame to her cheeks. 
Open, candid, ultra-refined herself, to spy upon others w^ould 
have been against her very nature. It seemed to her that in 
that light she was looked upon, as a spy, and inwardly re- 
solved not to intrude again. 

James Chester made his appearance in the course of time, 
and Clara set off home wdth him. They asked her to stay 
until the sport w^as at an end ; her husband pressed it ; but 
she could not get over that tone, and said she w^ould w^alk very 
quietly on, that they might overtake her. Master James went 
off as before, and Clara thought of the interview. There 
w^as no harm ; there can be none ; they w^ere only fishing,” 
she murmured to herself. What a stupid thing I Avas ! ” 
Where’s Jemmy?” asked Mrs. Chester, coming forth to 
meet her. 

“I’m sure I can’t tell. He ran away from me both in 
going and returning. It was not my fault. He does not 
mind anybody a bit, you know.” 

“ Why did you not w^ait to come home with Robert and 
Lady Ellis ? ” 

“ I don’t know. I wanted to get back, for one thing ; I 
was tired. And I don’t much think Lady Ellis liked my 
going.” 

“ My dear Clara, you must not take up vague fancies,” 


112 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


spoke Mrs. Chester, after a pause. One would think you 
were growing jealous, as the boys and girls do. Nothing can 
be in worse taste for a lady, even when there may be apparent 
grounds for it. In this case the very thought would be 
absurd; Lady Ellis is ten years older than your husband.’’ 

And so, what with one thing and another, Clara was sub- 
dued to passive quietness, and Mr. Lake and Lady Ellis had 
it all their own way. But her suspicions that the}^ were grow- 
ing rather too fond of each other’s company had been aroused, 
and she naturally, perhaps unconsciously, watched, not in the 
unfounded fancy of an angry woman, a jealous wife, but in 
the sick fear of a loving one. She saw the flirtation (again I 
must apologize for the name) grow into sentiment, if not to 
passion ; she saw it lapse into concealment — which is a very 
bad sign. And now that October had come in and was pass- 
ing, Clara Lake’s whole inward life was one scene of pain, of 
conflict, of wild jealousy preying upon her very heart-strings. 
She had loved her husband with all the fervor of a deeply 
imaginative nature ; had believed in him with the perfect 
trustingness of an innocent-hearted, honest English girl. 

She sat in her chair there in the drawing-room, drawn away 
from the fire’s heat, her eyes fixed on vacancy, her pretty 
hands lying weary. What was that heat compared to the 
heat that raged within, the mind’s fever ? 

If it could but end ! ” she murmured to herself ; if we 
could but go back to our home at Katterley ! ” 

Strange to say — and yet perhaps not strange, for the natural 
working out of a course of events is often hidden to the chief 
actor in it — the dream and its superstitious dread had faded 
away from Clara’s memory. Of course she had not forgotten 
the fact; whenever she thought of it, as she did at odd times, 
its features presented themselves to her as vividly as ever. 
But the dread of it was gone. * When day succeeded day, week 
succeeded week, bringing no appearance of any tragic end for 
her, accident or else, that could put her into a hearse, the 
foreboding fear quite subsided. Besides, Clara Lake looked 
upon the accident to the railway-train that Sunday night as 
the one that would have killed her had she only been in it. 
So the dream and its superstition had become as a thing of 
the past. 

Lonely, dispirited, unusually low, felt she this afternoon. 
Mr. Lake had gone over in the morning to Katterley to see 


GOING A FISHING. 


113 


how their house was progressing, and she began to wonder 
that he was not back. The}^ had taken dinner early that day, 
and Lady Ellis had disappeared after it. When Mr. Lake 
was away she would invariably go up to her room after 
dinner, saying she had letters to write. Shrewd Fanny Ches- 
ter, taking after her quick mother, said my lady went up to 
get a nap, not to write. Mrs. Chester was in the nursery, 
where she had a dressmaker at work, making clothes for her 
children ; Anna was helping; and Clara was alone. 

It may as well be mentioned that the mystery attaching to 
the cause of the railway accident had not been solved yet. 
The coroner and jury had met regularl}^ once a fortnight since, 
and as regularly adjourned the inquest. In the teeth of 
Colonel West’s most positive testimony, it w^as impossible to 
bring in a verdict against Cooper, the driver ; in the teeth of 
Oliver Jupp’s it was equally impossible 'to exonerate him. 
JSTo other witnesses, save the parties interested, appeared to 
have seen the liglits that night. The public were fairly non- 
plussed, the coroner and jury sick to death of the affair. 
The young person now working for Mrs. Chester was Cooper’s 
sister. 

The red embers were fading down nearly to blackness, when 
Fanny Chester came bursting into the room to Clara in her 
rather boisterous manner. Clara aroused herself, glad perhaps, 
of the interruption to her thoughts. 

Is it you, Fanny ? Where are they all, dear ? ” 

‘^Mamma’s at work in the nursery. She’s running the 
seams, and showing Miss Cooper how she wants the bodies cut. 
Anna’s there too. Have you seen Uncle Eobert?” 

Uncle Eobert is not back yet, Fanny.” 

Yes, he is,” replied the young lady, who at all times was 
fond of her own opinion. 

You are mistaken,” said Clara, “ He would have come in 
to me the first thing.” 

But I saw him. I saw him in the garden ever so long 
ago. Lady Ellis was with him. They were at the back there 
walking towards the shrubbery.” 

Indisputable testimony ; and Clara Lake could have bitten 
her tongue for saying “ He would have come to me the first 
thing,” although her audience consisted only of a child. Mr. 
Lake was to have brought her some book from home that he 
had fogotten the previous time; she was ardently longing 
7 


114 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


for it, and thought he would at least have come straight to 
her and delivered it. 

“Will you please reach me one of those old newspapers up 
there/^' proceeded Fanny. “ Mamma sent me for it. She 
wants to cut a pattern.^^ 

Giving the child the newspaper she asked for, Mrs. Lake 
shut the door after her and drew to the window, her heart beat- 
ing rebelliously. “ So he was back ever so long ago, and solac- 
ing himself with the sweet companionship of Lady Ellis.^^ As 
she stood there, looking out on the darkening gloom — tit type 
of the gloom within — Clara asked herself the serious question. 
Was this constant seeking of each other’s society but the 
result of accidejit ; of a nonsensical liking which meant really 
nothing, and would pass away ; or was it that they were really 
in love with each other, and she losing her place in her 
husband’s heart ?• 

An impulse — a wild impulse — which she could not restrain, 
and perhaps did not try to, led her to open the glass doors and 
step out : some vague feeling in her unhappy mind making 
itself heard amidst the inward tumult of wishing to see with 
her own eyes whether the child’s information was true. It 
might not have been- her husband; it might have been the 
curate, or Oliver Jupp, or that big Mr. Winterton, all of 
whom were fond of coming and of walking with Ladj^ Ellis 
when they got the chance ; and she would go and see. Pretty 
sophist ! Poor Clara knew in her inmost heart that it was 
Pobert Lake, and no other : instinct told her so. Had she 
given herself a moment’s time for reflection, she would proba- 
bly not have gone. To an honorable nature — and Clara 
Lake’s was essentially such — the very idea of looking after 
even a recreant husband is abhorrent. But jealousy is the 
strongest passion that can assail the human heart, whether of 
man or woman. Under its influence we do not stop to raise 
questions of expediency. 

The raw fog pervading the air struck upon her with a chill 
as she came out of the heated room. She had nothing on but 
a thin'muslin body, and shivered quite unconsciously. What 
cared she for the cold or the heat ? Had she been plunged 
into a bath of ice she would not have felt it then. On she 
went, sweeping round the lawn in the dusky twilight ; for it 
was not dark yet — keeping close to the trees, that their 
friendly shade might shelter her from chance eyes. Fanny 


GOING FISHING. 


115 




Chester’s words, Going towards the shrubbery,” serving for 
her guide unconsciously, she made for the same place. 

Well, what did she find or see ? ]^othing very dreadful, 
taking it in the abstract ; but quite enough to fan the jealous 
indignation of a wife, especially of one who loves her hus- 
band. 

The shrubbery appeared to be empty ; and Clara had gone 
half way down it, past one of its cross openings, when,- from 
that very opening, sounds of voices and footsteps advancing 
struck upon her ear. Retreat was not expedient : they might 
see her pass ; and she darted into a deep alcove the shrubs had 
been trained to make, before which ran a bench. Cowering 
almost into the very laurels, she stood there in sick fear. 
Never had she intended to get so near, and almost wished for 
the earth to open and bury her alive rather than she should be 
seen. Her heart beating with a wild shame, as if she had 
been caught in some great crime, there she had to stay. 

On they came in their supreme unconsciousness, turning 
into the shrubbery, and alas ! towards the verdant alcove. 
Clara’s eyes were strained to look, and her poor breath came 
in gasps. 

They were arm-in-arm ; and Mr. Lake held one of my. 
lady’s hands, lightly toying with its fingers. He was speaking 
in low, tender tones — the same tones which had been given 
to her before their marriage, and had won her heart for ever. 
What he was saying she could not in her agitation tell, but 
as they were passing her, going from the house, you under- 
stand, not to it, LadjT- Ellis spoke. 

Robert, it is getting dark and cold.” 

Robert ! Had she known his wife was listening ! It might 
have made no difference. 

The dark will not hurt you,” he said, louder. ^Wou are 
with me.” 

But it is damp also. Indeed, since I returned from India, 
I feel both the damp and cold very much.” 

She spoke in a timid, gentle tone : as different from her 
natural tones, as different from those she used to any hut him, 
as can welt be imagined. That she had set herself out to 
gain his love seemed a sure fact. How far Lady Ellis con- 
templated going, or Mr. Lake either, and what they may have 
anticipated would be the final upshot, how or where it was to 
end, was best known to themselves. Let it lie with them. 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


116 

“There’s a shawl of yours, I think, Angeline, in the 
summer-house. Sit you there while I get it. i i 

He left her on the bench, behind which his wife was stand- 
ing : they touched each other within an inch or two. Clara 
drew in her breath, and wished the earth would open. Lady 
Ellis began a scrap of a song, as if she did not like being 
alone in the darkness. Her voice, whether m singing or 
speaking, was loud and shrill, though she modified it lor Mr. 
Lake. An antediluvian sort of song : goodness knows where 
she could have picked it up. Perhaps the stars, beginning to 
twinkle above, suggested its recollection to her. 

“ As many bright stars as appeared in the sky, 

As many young lovers were caught by my eye ; 

And I was a beauty then, oh then. 

And I was a beauty then. 

“ But now that I’m married, good what, good what I 
I’m tied to a proud and tantastical fop, 

Who follows another and cares for me not. 

“ But when I’m a widow I’ll live at my ease, 

I’ll go all about, and I’ll do as I please, 

And take care how I marry again, again; 

And take care how I marry again.” 

She had time to sing the three stanzas through, repeating 
the last line of the first and third verses as a refrain. 

Mr. Lake came back swinging the shawl on his arm — a 
warm grey woollen one. All right at last, Angeline. I 
could not find it, and had to strike a fusee for a light. It had 
slipped behind the seat. I began to think you must have 
carried it away to-day 

I did not know it was there,’’ she answered. 

Don’t you remember throwing it off last evening when we 
were sitting there, saying you felt hot ? Now be quiet : I’ll 
wrap you up myself. Have you any pins ? ” 

She had risen, and he put the shawl on her head and 
shoulders ; then turned her round and pinned it under her 
chin, so that only her face was visible. With such care ! — oh, 
with such care ! ” 

‘‘ You are taking as much trouble as though I were going 
to stay out for an hour ! ” 

“I wish we were.” 

Do you ? What would your wife say ? ” 

Nothing. And if she did — what then ? There, you can’t 
feel the cold now.” 


GOING A FISHING. 


117 


No ; I don’t think I can.” 

But what am I to have for my pains ? ” 

She made no answer. In truth, he did not wait for it. 
Bending his own face on the one he held up, he left a kiss and 
a loving word upon it : “ My dearest ! ” A long and passion- 
ate kiss, as it sounded in his wife’s ear. 

Lady Ellis, perhaps not prepared for so demonstrative a 
proceeding, spoke a rebuke. He only laughed. They moved 
away ; he retaining his arm around her for a lingering 
moment, as though to keep the shawl in its place j and their 
voices were dropped again to a soft sweet whisper, that 
scarcely disturbed the stillness of the murky autumn night. 

Very different from the tone of that wail — had any been 
near to note it — when Clara Lake left her hiding-place ; a low 
wail, as of a breaking heart, that came forth and mingled 
with the inclement evening air. 

Some writer has remarked — and I believe it was Bulwer 
Lytton, in his Student ” — that to the vulgar there is but 
one infidelity in love. It is perfectly true ; but I think the 
word vulgar ” is there misplaced, unless we may apply it to 
all, whether inmates of the palace or the cottage, whose tem- 
perament is not of the ultra-refined. ^TZ^m-refined, . mind ! 
they of the sensitive, proud, impassioned nature, whose 
inward life, its thoughts, its workings, can never be betraj^ed 
to the world, any more than they themselves can be under- 
stood by it. Alas for them ! They are hardly fit to dwell on 
this earth, to do battle with its sins and its caros ; for their 
spirit is more exalted than is well : it may be said, more ethe- 
realized. The gold too much refined, remember, is not 
adapted for general use. That the broad, vulgar idea con- 
veyed by the word infidelity, is not their infidelity, is very 
certain. It is the unfaithfulness of the spirit, the wandering 
of the heart’s truth to another, that constitutes infidelity for 
them ; and where such comes, it shatters the heart’s life as 
effectually as a blast of lightning shatters the tree it falls on. 
This was the infidelity that wrought the misery of Clara 
Lake : that other infidelity, whether it was or was not to have 
place in the future, she barely glanced at. Her husband’s 
love had left her : it was given to another ; and what mat- 
tered aught else? The world had closed to her; never again 
could she have, as it seemed, any place in it. Henceforth life 
would be a mockery. 


118 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


She returned shivering to the house — not apparently with 
the cold from without, but from the chill within — entering by 
the glass doors. The fire was nearly out ; it wanted stirring 
and replenishing. She never saw it, never noticed it ; but 
crept upstairs to her own room to hide herself We cannot 
follow her ; for you m£iy not doubt that the quarter of an hour 
she stopped in it she had need to be alone, away from the 
wondering eyes of men. 

Only a quarter of an hour. Clara Lake was not one of your 
loud women, who like their wrongs to be proclaimed to the 
world, and punished accordingly. In her sensitive reticence, 
she dreaded their betrayal more than any earthly thing. So 
she rose from her knees, and lifted her head from the chair, 
where it had lain in utter abandonment of spirit, and smoothed 
her hair, and went out of her room again to disarm suspicion, 
and was her calm self once more. At that same moment, 
though she knew it not, Mr. Lake and Lady Ellis were slowly 
strolling across the grass to enter by the same glass doors, 
their promenade, which they had been taking up and down 
the broad walk since quitting the shrubbery, having come to a 
decorous end. ' 


CHAPTEE VIIL 

CATCHING A CHILL. 

The warm light from the open nursery door flashed across 
Clara Lake’s path in the corridor, and she went in. Mrs. 
Chester was running some slate-colored breadths together, the 
lining for a black frock for Fanny. Miss Cooper sat at the 
table equally busy. She was a steady industrious young 
woman, as well-conducted as her brother, the unfortunate 
engine-driver; and many ladies employed her at their houses 
by day. 

‘^Is it you, Clara? ” cried Mrs. Chester, looking up. ^^Pm 
coming down. I suppose 3^ou are all wondering what has 
become of me ? Is tea on the table ? ” 

I — I don’t know ; I have been in my room,” replied Mrs. 
Lake, taking a low chair near the fire. 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


119 


Anna, with her quick ear of discernment — at work apart 
from the rest, with very little benefit of the candles’ light — 
turned round and looked at Clara, as if something in the tone 
were unnatural ; disguised. But. she said nothing. Clara 
seemed absorbed in the fire. 

Light, quick steps were heard on the stairs, and Bobert 
Lake dashed in, a gay smile on his face. Pretty house- 
keepers you are ! The drawing-room fire’s gone out.” 

The fire gone out ! ” repeated Mrs. Chester, in consterna- 
tion. What will Lady Ellis say ? Clara, dear, what could 
jmu have been thinking of? You should have rung for coals.” 

It was a good fire when I left it,” murmured Clara, be- 
lieving she spoke in accordance with the truth. 

And the fire was all red coals, and the room as hot as 
could be when I went in for that newspaper,” put in Fanny 
Chester. 

^^Bun, Fanny, and tell them to make up the fire again, and 
to put in plenty of sticks,” said Mrs. Chester. “ Has Lady 
Ellis not been sitting with you this afternoon, Clara ? ” 

^^In her own room, no doubt, writing letters. I hope she is 
there still. So you^have got back, Bobert,” Mrs. Chester 
added, turning to her brother. 

Safe and sound,” was Mr. Lake’s response, as he stood 
surveying the table and the work going on. What are you 
so bus}^ over, all of you ? ” 

Mrs. Chester, bending her eyes and fingers on a complicated 
join, inserted from consideration of economy, did not take the 
trouble to answer. Mr. Lake went round to his wife. 

How are you by this time. Clary ? ” he lightly said ; as, 
standing between her and the table, he bent down to the low 
chair where she sat, and kissed her forehead. 

It was a cold kiss ; a careless matter-of-fact sort of kiss, k 
la matrimon}^ She made no response in words, or else ; but 
the hot crimson dyed her cheeks, as she contrasted it with a 
certain other kiss bestowed by him on somebody else not long 
before ; that was passionate enough ; rather too much so. 
Had he noticed, he might have seen his wife press her hand 
sharply upon her bosom ; as if she might be trying to hide its 
tumultuous throbbing. 

And how does the house get on, Bobert?” asked Mrs. 
Chester, lifting her head to speak. 


120 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Slower than ever. You’ll have us here until Christmas, 
Penelope, according to the present look-out.” 

hope I shall; although Clara” — turning toward her — 
does seem in a fidget to get back.” 

Clara seemed in a fidget about nothing, just then ; she was 
sitting perfectly still, her face and her eyes cast down. Eobert 
Lake ran on, in his own fashion, turning his attention upon 
the dressmaker now. 

Working for your life as usual, Miss Cooper ! What is 
that you are cutting out ? A pair of pantaloons for me ? ” 

It’s a pair of sleeves, sir.” 

Oh, sleeves ; I feared they’d hardly be large enough. By 
the way, when is that inquest to be brought to an end ? ” 
wish I knew, sir,” she answered. 

And nothing has been decided in regard to your brother 
yet ! ” 

No, sir. It is very hard.” 

It is very strange,” returned Mr. Lake — strange there 
should be this contradiction about the lights. Each side is so 
positive.” 

I am quite certain, sir, that Matthew would not say what 
was untrue, even to save himself; therefore, when he says it 
was the green light up, I know it was the green.” 

Precisely the same thing that I tell everybody. I have 
unlimited faith in Cooper.” 

And there’s Colonel West to bear out what he says, you 
know, sir. The colonel would not say the green light was up, 
if it was not.” 

No. But then, again, Oliver Jupp and the station people 
maintain it was the red,” said Mr. Lake, remarking upon the 
fact that had puzzled him all along. For my part, I think 
there was a little sleight of hand going on. Some conjurors 
must have been there in disguise. Now gentlemen and ladies, 
walk up ; the performance is just going to begin. The cele- 
brated Signor Confusiani has taken his place, and is entering 
on his mysteries. He transforms colors by the help of his 
magic wand. In looking at the green, you perceive it change 
to red ; in looking at the red, it at once passes into blue.” 

They all laughed, except Clara. She sat still as before, her 
eyes fixed on the fire. 

^Wou see, sir, tlie worst of it is that Matthew is kept out of 
employment all this time,” said Miss Cooper. ^^They have 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


121 


suspended him. He and his poor young wife are at their wits’ 
end nearly, over it. Two months now, and not a shilling 
coming in.” 

“Yes, it is very bad,” returned Mr. Lake, speaking seriously 
for once. “ There’s a baby too, is there not ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. Tliree weeks old.” 

“ I suppose you give them your earnings.” 

“ I give them what I can, sir ; but I have my mother to 
keep.” 

“ Ah,” concluded Mr. Lake, abandoning the subject. 
“ Have you been for a walk to-day, Clara ? ” 

“Ko.” 

“ You ought to take her, K-obert; she scarcely ever goes out 
now. You might liave come back earlier and done it. Lady 
Ellis did not have a walk to-day, failing you. Why did you 
not come sooner ? ” 

“ Couldn’t manage it, Mrs. Chester. 

“ But — when did you come ? ” suddenly resumed Mrs. Ches- 
ter, after a pause of thought. “ You must have come back in 
the afternoon. There’s no train at this hour.” 

“ Oh, they put on a special one for me.” 

“ Don’t be stupid,” retorted Mrs. Chester. “ You must 
have been back some time.” 

“ Have it your own way, Penelope, and perhaps you’ll live 
the longer.” 

“Uncle Pobert, jmu know you were back ever so long ago,” 
interposed Eanny Chester, who had just come into the room. 
“ You have been staying in the garden with Lady Ellis.” 

“ What’s that ? ” cried Mr. Lake. 

“I saw you. You were both of you going towards the 
shrubbery.” 

He caught hold of the little speaker by the waist, and 
swung her round. “ That’s the way you see ghosts, is it. Miss 
Eanny ! Take care they don’t run away with you ! How 
could you see me in the shrubbery, pray, if I was not there.” 

“Be quiet. Uncle Robert; put me down. Mamma, there’s 
a good tire in the parlor now, and the tea-tray is carried in. 
And Miss Cooper, I was to tell you they are waiting tea for 
you in the kitchen.” 

Mrs. Chester, shaking the threads from her black gown, left 
the room, Eanny went with her, and Miss Cooper followed. 
Tea was a thankful boon to the weary, hard-worked dress- 


122 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


maker. Anna never quitted her work until the last minute, 
and sat on, drawing one of the candles a little nearer to her. 
Robert Lake began speaking to his wife of the progress of 
their house; or rather, the non-progress. Clara — the one 
dreadful certainty giving rise to other suspicions — wondered 
wdiether he had bribed the men to retard it. He had not 
done that, however; he w^as not one to commit wrong deliber- 
ately. 

Seriously speaking, Clara, I do think we shall not get 
back before Christmas.’’ 

She had determined upon saying something ; what, she 
hardly knew. But when she tried to speak, the violent agita- 
tion that the effort brought, impeded all utterance. And 
perhaps the presence of Anna Chester acted as a restraint. 
She glanced up at him and opened her lips; but no words 
came ; her throat was beating, her breath troubled. 

Clara ! you have turned quite white. Are you ill ? 

I — I feel cold,” was all she could say. 

It is a cold, nasty night,” remarked Mr. Lake, giving no 
further thought to the matter, or supposing that there was 
cause to give it. The tea is ready, I think ; that will warm 
you.” 

He took one of the candles off the table and went to his 
room to wash his hands. Anna Chester laid down her work 
and approached Clara. 

^^Dear Mrs. Lake, something is troubling you,” she said in 
her gentle manner, as her sweet eyes glanced deprecatingly at 
that care-betraying face. “Can I do anything for you — or 
get you anything ? Shall I bring you some tea up here ? ” 

“Hush, Anna! Ho, it is nothing — only that I am cold. 
Thank you all the same.” 

“You are looking so pale. Pale and sad.” 

“ I don’t think I have been very well lately, Anna. Let 
me be quiet, my dear, for a few minutes, will you ? my head 
aches.” 

Anna Chester, with the delicacy innate in her, quitted the 
room, setting things a little straight on the work-table in 
passing it. When Mr. Lake came back, Clara was sitting 
just as he had left her. Putting down the candle, he came 
close up, making . some trifling remark. 

She would have given the world to be able to say a w^ord to 
him ; to ask whether she was to be second in his heart ; second 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


123 


to that woman ; but she simply dared not. Her agitation 
would have become unbearable, and ended in an hysterical 
scene. 

Are you not coming to tea, Clara ? 

Presently.^^ 

He looked at her with a keen eye. She was odd, he 
thought. 

What’s the matter, Clara ? You seem dull, this evening.” 

There was no answer. Mrs. Lake had her hand pressed 
upon her throat and chest, striving, though he knew it not, to 
still the agitation that all but burst its bounds. 

Where is the book ? ” she presently asked. 

^^What book?” 

The one you were to bring for me ; that you forgot last 
time.” 

Oh, to be sure ; here it is,” he said, taking it from his 
coat pocket. I did not forget it this time, you see.” 

You might have brought it to me when you first got 
back,” she reproachfully said. 

^^Well, I have not been back long. You are shivering; 
what makes you so cold ? ” 

Oh, I don’t know.” 

Perhaps 3"ou have been asleep ; one does shiver sometimes 
on waking. Come along, Clara ; tea will do you good.” 

She rose and followed him down. Mrs. Chester was pour- 
ing out the tea, and Lady Ellis, in her black silk gown with 
'its low body and short sleeves, and the ruche of white crape, 
causing her to look girlish, years younger than she was, sat 
on the sofa. She had several evening dresses, but they were 
all black, and all made in the same simple style. Sir George 
had not been dead twelve months yet; but she had never 
worn a regular widow’s cap — it would have spoilt her hair, she 
told them. The pretty white net things she wore in a morn- 
ing were but an apology for one. Very fine, very silky and 
beautiful did her purple-black hair look that night, and 
Pobert Lake playfully touched it as he sat down beside her. 

The children’s meal-table, at which Anna Chester used to 
preside in a little room, was done away with, the two boys 
having gone to school, so that Anna and Fanny were present 
as usual this evening. There was plenty of talking and 
laughing, and Clara’s silence was not noticed — save perhaps 
by Anna Chester. 


124 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


After tea, when Anna and Fanny were gone away again, 
Mr. Lake and Lady Ellis began chess : in one way or other 
they generally monopolized each other’s evenings. Sometimes 
it would be with music ; sometimes at eearte, which she had 
. taught him ; often at chess. The small table was drawn out, 
and they sat at it apart. Mrs. Chester was doing some 
embroidery-work this evening ; Clara sat alone by the fire 
reading; or making believe to read. 

But when she was unobserved the j^ook dropped on her lap. 
Nobody was looking at her. Mrs. Chester’s profile was 
towards her, but she was fully engrossed with her work ; her 
husband’s back was turned. Only Lady Ellis was in full 
view, and Clara sat studying her face and the glances of her 
large and flashing eyes. 

How long silence had reigned, except for the remarks 
exchanged now and again between the chess-players, per- 
haps none of them could have told, when one of those subtile 
instincts, alike unaccountable and unexplainable, caused Mrs. 
Chester to turn suddenly to Clara Lake. What she saw made 
her start. 

“ Clara ! What is the matter ? 

Mr. Lake turned quickly round and regarded his wife. 
The book lay on her knee, her cheeks were scarlet with incipi- 
ent fever, her whole frame was shaking, her eyes were wild. 
'Idiat she was laboring under some extraordinary attack of 
terror appeared evident to all. He rose and came up. 

You are certainly ill, my dear ! ” 

111, agitated, frightened — there could be no question of it. 
Not at once did she speak ; she was battling with herself for 
calmness. Mrs. Chester took her hand. Lady Ellis 
approached with dark and wondering eyes. Clara put her 
hands before her own. 

It is a nervous attack,” said Mrs. Chester. Go and get 
some wine, Bobert, or some brandy.” 

He was going already, before she told him, and brought 
back both. Clara would take neither. Awfully vexed at hav- 
ing caused a scene, the mortification enabled her to throw off 
the symptoms of illness, except the shivering. Lady Ellis, 
with extreme bad taste, slipped her hand within Mr. Lake’s 
arm as they stood watching her. He moved forward to speak, 
and so dropped it. 

You must have caught cold, I fear, Clara. Had you not 
better take something warm and go to bed ? ” 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


125 


She lifted her eyes to his, and answered sharplj — sharply 
for her. 

I shall not go to bed. I am well now.^^ 

Colds are soonei got than got rid of, Clara. If you have 
taken one 

If I have, it J1 be gone in the morning,^^ came the sharp 
interruption. Pray do not let me disturb your game.’^ 

Contriving to repress the shivering by a strong effort of will, 
she took up hei’ book again. They returned to the chess-table, 
Mrs. Chester went on with her embroidery, and so the night 
went on : Clara, outwardly calm, reading sedulously — inwardly 
shaking as though she had an ague-fit. Even to herself it 
was evident that she had caught a violent cold. 

I shall send you a glass of white wine whey,’’ spoke Mrs. 
Chester, when Clara at length rose to go upstairs, declining to 
partake of the refreshments brought in. ^^And mind you lie 
in bed in the morning. There’s no mistake about the cold.” 

How could she have caught it ? ” exclaimed Lady Ellis, 
with a vast display of sympathy ; and Clara bit her tongue 
to enforce silence, for she could scarcely forbear telling her. 
My lady, taking her unawares, gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

Drink the whey quite hot, my dear Mrs. Lake.” 

Clara, her mind full of Judas the false and his kiss, wont 
upstairs alone ; she preferred to do so, she told them, and shut 
herself in her own chamber. When Elizabeth appeared with 
the white wine hdiey, and left it, she noticed that her mistress 
had not begun to undress. 

Neither had she when Mr. Lake came up, nearly an hour 
afterwards. They had lingered in the dining-room — he, Mrs. 
Chester, and Lady Ellis. He was very mucli surprised. She 
sat by tlie fire, wrapped in a shawl, wfith her feet on the fender. 

“Why, Clara, I thought jmu were in bed and asleep !” 

There w^as no answering remark. Mr. Lake, thinking her 
manner more and more strange, laid his hand kindly on her 
shoulder. 

“ Clary, wdiat ails you to-night ? ” 

She shrank away from his hand, and replied to his question 
by another. 

“ Why is it that our house is not ready ? ” 

“That is just what I asked of the workmen to-day, lazy 
dogs ! ” 

“We can go back to it as it is! Some of the rooms are 
habitable. Will jmu do so ? ” 


126 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


What in the world for? he demanded. ^^We are very 
comfortable here, Clara; and, between ourselves, it is a help 
to Penelope.’’ 

We must go back. I cannot stay.” 

But why ? Where’s the motive ? ” 

She drew her shawl closely round her as if she shivered 
again, and spoke the next words with a jerk, for to. get them 
out required an effort of pain. What it had taken to nerve 
her to this task so far, she alone knew. 

“ What is there between you and Lady Ellis ? ” 

Between me and Lady Ellis ! ” echoed Mr. Lake, with all 
the carelessness in life. Nothing at all. What should there 
be?” 

She bent towards him and whispered. 

Which is it — which is it to he, I or she ? ” 

‘^To be — for what ? ” rejoined Mr. Lake, really at a loss. 

Which of us is it that you love ? ” she wailed forth ; and 
indeed the tone of her voice could be called little else than a 
wail. 

Clara, you are growing foolish.” 

Don’t put me off in this false way,” she vehemently 
uttered, roused to passion by his indifference. Why are you 
always with her, stealing walks and interviews ? — why do you 
give to her your impassioned kisses, and call her by endearing 
names ? Bobert, you will kill me ! ” 

He put the heel of his boot on the bars to push down a 
piece of refractory coal, probably debating with himself what 
he should answer. 

“ Considering that you are my wife, Clara, and that Lady 
Ellis is but a chance acquaintance, I think you might be above 
this nonsense.” 

Have jmu forgotten my dream ? ” she resumed, in a low 
tone. Have you forgotten that my coming to this house 
seemed to shadow forth my death ? ” 

“ That dream again, of all things ! ” exclaimed Mr. Lake 
in open surprise, involuntary sarcasm in his tone. I thought 
it was done with and dismissed.” 

I have been thinking of it all the evening.” 

Then Pd not confess it,” he said, dropping either by acci- 
dent or in temper the hair-brush he had taken in his hand. 

And the notion of my kissing Lady Ellis ! and calling her— 
what did you phrase it ?— endearing names? That’s the best 
joke I have heard lately.” 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


127 


She fixed her gaze steadfastly upon him ; there was some- 
thing in it which seemed to say she could convict him of false- 
hood, if she chose ; and his eyes fell beneath hers. 

What has come over you, Clary ? You must be turning 
jealous ! I never knew you so foolish before.^^ 

she answered, in a tone of pain, never before, 
never before.^’ 

And why now ? There’s no occasion for it.” 

I will not descend to explanation or reproach,” she said, 
after a pause; ^^you may ask jmur own conscience how much 
of the latter you merit. I shall go home to-morrow ; I dare 
not stay in this house with that woman. Do you understand 

me, I dare not. You can accompany me if^ — if E/obert, 

you must choose between us.” 

He did not speak for a minute or two ; and when he did, it 
was in a careless tone, as though he wished to make light of 
the matter altogether. 

‘^Of course if you have made up your mind to return to an 
uncomfortable home, half pulled down, we must do so. I am 
sorry for the caprice, for we shall be choked with paint and 
dust.” • 

‘^Yery well. We go to-morrow. I will send Elizabeth 
over early in the morning, to get things straight for us.” 

She rose as she spoke, and began to undress. His eyes fell 
upon the tumbler. • Taking it up he held it to the light. 

I do believe this is your whey ! It is quite cold. To 
drink it like this would do you no good.” 

Oh, what does it signify ? ” she answered; as if that and 
all things else 'were utterly indifferent to her. 

Mr. Lake quitted the room without speaking. By and by 
he came back with another glassful, quite hot. 

“ How, Clara, drink this.” 

She refused at first ; it would do her no good, she said ; but 
Mr. Lake insisted upon it. He was her husband still, and 
could exact obedience. 

But the morrow brought no journey for Mrs. Lake. It 
brought illness instead. With early morning Mr. Lake got 
up and aroused the house, saying that his wife was ill. She 
had awoke so exceedingly suffering — her breath impeded, her 
face and eyes hot and wild — as to alarm him. Mrs. Chester 
hastened to her bedside, and the nearest doctor was summoned 
in haste and brought to the house. He pronounced the 


128 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


malady to be inflammation of the chest and lungs, and forbade 
her to attempt to leave her bed. He inquired of Mrs. Lake if 
she knew how she had taken it, and she told him, after a pause 
of hesitation, that she had gone out of doors from a warm 
room the previous evening, without putting anything on, and 
the damp cold must have struck to her. 

Yes ; it was so. As the sight she had gone out to witness 
struck a chill to her heart, so did the cold and damp strike a 
chill to her frame. Once before, five or six years ago, she had 
caught a similar chill, and inflammation had come on in the 
same rapid manner. The doctor observed tliat she must be 
especially predisposed to it, and privately inquired of Mrs. 
Chester whether any of her relatives had died of consumption. 

Yes,” w^as the answer, ^Oier mother and her brother.” 

Mr. Lake went to Katterley and brought back the gentle- 
man who had attended her from infancy. Hr. Marlow, an old 
man now. He was a personal friend of theirs as well as 
medical attendant. He saw no cause for anxiety, he said to 
Mr. Lake ; that she was very ill there was no doubt, but not, 
he thought, ill unto danger. 

“ She has a good constitution, she has a good constitution,” 
urged Mr. Lake, his tone of anxiety proving that he wished 
to be reassured upon the point. 

For all I have ever seen to the contrary,” replied Hr. 
Marlow. She must be more prudent for the future, and not 
subject herself to sudden changes of temperature.” 

She found the drawing-room very hot, and went from it 
into the cold night-air. It opens with glass doors. And if 
you remember, doctor, last night was raw and foggy. At 
least, it was so here ; I don’t know what it may have been at 
Katterley.” 

So spoke Mr. Lake. But it never entered into his 
carelessly-constituted mind to wonder why his wife had gone 
out ; or whether, having gone out, she might b}^ some curious 
chance have come unsuspected across the path of himself and 
another. 

For three weeks Mrs. Lake never left her bed. The inflam- 
mation had taken strong hold upon her. A nice time of it 
those two must have had downstairs ! Bobert Lake, gen- 
uinely sorry for her illness in itself, for her prolonged seclu- 
sion, was quite an exemplary attendant, and would pass half 
an hour together in the sick-chamber, indemnifying himself 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


129 


by several half-hours with somebody else. Mrs. Chester of 
.course saw nothing ; nobodj^ on earth could be more conve- 
nientl}" blind where her interest was concerned, and it would 
be unprofitable to her to lose or to offend Lady Ellis. Clara 
lay and imagined all that might be taking place, the sweet 
words, the pretty endearments, the confidential interchange of 
feeling and thought : it was not precisely the way to get 
better. 

The maid Elizabeth was her chief attendant ; Anna 
Chester sat with her often. Mrs. Chester, bustling and rest- 
less in a sick room as she was elsewhere, was better out of the 
chamber than in it. To none of these did Clara speak of hor 
husband ; but when Fanny ran in, as she did two or three 
times a day, Clara would ask questions if nobody was within 
hearing. 

Where’s Mr. Lake, Fanny ? ” 

Oh ! he’s downstairs in the drawing-room.’^ 

What is he doing ? ” 

Talking to Lady Ellis.” 

The answer would vary according to circumstances ; and 
Fanny, too young for any sort of suspicion, was quite ready 
and willing to give them. He is reading to Lady Ellis ; ” or 
He is out with Lady Ellis ; ” or He and Lady Ellis are 
sitting together by the fire-light;” just as it might chance to 
be. Twice Lad}^ Ellis went with him to Katterley, and gave 
Mrs. Lake on her return a glowing account of how quickly 
the house was getting on now. 

Well, the time wore away somehow, and Mrs. Lake got 
better and took to sit up in her room. The first time she 
went downstairs was an evening in November. She did not 
go down then by orders ; quite the contraiy. Hot just yet,” 
the doctor had told her in answer to an inquiry ; in a few 
days.” But she felt very, very dull that afternoon, sitting 
alone in her chamber. Mrs. Chester and Anna were busy 
downstairs, making pickles — in the very kitchen that Clara 
had seen so minutely in her dream ; Elizabeth had gone on an 
errand to Katterley, taking Fanny Chester, and Bobert did 
not come up. She knew he was at home and sat feverishly 
expecting him, but he never came. Very lonely felt she, very 
dispirited ; tears filled her eyes repeatedl}^, uncalled for ; and 
so it went on to dusk. Had ever^Fody abandoned her ? she 
thought, sitting there between the lights. 

8 


130 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


The shadows of the room, only lighted by its fire, threw 
their sombre darkness across, taking curious shapes. A long, 
narrow box, containing ferns and seaweed, stood on a stool in 
front of the hearth ; as the shadow of it grew deeper on the 
opposite wall in the rapidly fading daylight, it began to look 
not unlike a coffin. As this fancy took possession of her, the 
remembrance of her dream with all its distressing terror sud- 
denly flashed into her mind ; she grew nervous and timid ; too 
frightened to remain alone. 

Wrapping herself up in a grey chenille shawl, as warmly as 
lier husband had wrapped another that recent bygone night, 
she prepared to descend. She was fully dressed, in a striped 
green silk, and her pretty hair was plainly braided from her 
brow. The lovely face was thin and pale ; the dark eyes were 
larger and sadder than of yore ; and she was very weak yet. 

Too weak to venture down the staircase alone, as she soon 
found. But for clinging to the balustrades, she would have 
fallen. This naturally caused her movements -to be slow and 
quiet. She looked into the dining-room first ; it was all in 
darkness; then she turned to the drawing-room, and pushed 
open the half-closed door. Little light was there, either; only 
what came from the fire, and that was low. Standing over it 
she discerned two forms, which, as she slowly advanced with 
her tottering steps, revealed themselves as those of her hus- 
band and Lady Ellis. She was in her usual evening attire : 
the black silk gown with the low body and short sleeves, and 
some black ribbons floated from her hair. Mr. Lake’s hand 
was lightly resting on her neck; ostensibly playing with the 
jet chain around it, and touching her fair shoulder. Talking 
together, they did not hear her entrance. 

You know, Angeline,” were the first words audible — when 
at that moment he seemed to become conscious that some one 
had entered to disturb the interview, and turned his head. 
Who was it? Some muffled figure. Mr. Lake strained his 
eyes as it came nearer, and sent them peering through the 
semi-darkness. The next moment he had sprung at least five 
yards from Angeline.” 

Clara ! How could you be so imprudent ? My dear 
child ! you know jmu ought not to have left your room.” 

Pushing aside Lady Ellis with, it must be confessed, little 
ceremony, he dragged a couch to the warmest* corner of the 
hearth, and took his wife in his sheltering arms. Placing her 


CATCHING A CHILL., 


131 


upon it, he snatched up a cloth mantle of Mrs. Chester’s that 
happened to he near, and fenced her in with it from the 
draught, should there be any. Then he sat down on the same 
sofa, edging himself on it, as if he would also be a fence for 
her against the cold. That his concern and care were genuine, 
springing right from his heart, there could be no question. 
My Lady Ellis, standing on the opposite side to recover her 
equanimity, after having stirred the fire into a blaze, and 
looking on with her great black eyes, saw that. 

He bent his head slightly as he gazed on his wife, waiting 
in silence, not saying a word further until her breath was 
calmer. Very labored it was just then, perhaps with the 
exertion of walking down, perhaps with mental emotion. 

How tell me why you ventured out of your room,” said 
he, making a prisoner of one of her hands, and speaking in a 
tender tone. 

I was dull : I was alone,” she panted. 

Alone! dull! Where’s Penelope? where’s Anna? I 
thought they were with you. Elizabeth, what is she about ? ” 

She did not explain or answer. She lay back quietly as he 
had placed her, her eyes closed, and her white face motion- 
less. For the first time Eobert Lake thought he saw a look of 
DEATH upon it, and a strange thrill of anguish darted through 
him. What a fool I am ! ” quoth he to himself, the next 
moment; “it’s the reflection of that fire.” 

“My dear Mrs. Lake, I should only be too happy to sit with 
you when you feel lonely,” spoke Lady Ellis, as softly as her 
naturally harsh voice would allow. “But you never will let me, 
you know.” 

Clara murmured some inaudible answer about not giving 
her trouble, and lay quiet where her husband had placed her. 
He kept her hand still ; and she let him do it. He stole quick 
glances at her wasted features, as if alarm had struck him. 
She never lifted her eyes to either of them. 

The announcement of dinner and Mrs. Chester came to- 
gether. When that lady saw who was in the drawing-room 
lying on the sofa, like a picture of a ghost more than a living 
woman, she set up a commotion. What did Clara mean by 
it ? Did she come out of her room on purpose to renew her 
illness ? She must go back to it again. Clara simply shook 
her head by way of dissent, and Mr. Lake interposed, saying 
she should stay if she wished : she would get no harm in the 
warm room. 


132 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


They went in to dinner. Not Clara ; what little solid food 
she could take yet was eaten in the middle of the day. There 
was a fowl on the table 5 and Mr. Lake, leaving his own dinner 
to get cold, prepared to carry a piece of it to his wife. 

It will be of no use,” said Mrs. Chester to him, in rather 
a cross tone, as if she thought the morsel was going to be 
wasted ; but he quitted the room, paying no attention. 

He found his wife in a perfect paroxysm of tears, sobbing 
wildly. Left alone, her long pent-up feelings had given way. 
Putting the plate on the table, he bent over her — 

My dearest, this will never do. Why do you grieve so ? 
What is the matter ? ” 

“ Oh, you know ! you know ! ” she answered. 

There was a dead pause. She employed it in smothering 
and choking down her sobs ; he in any reflection that might 
be agreeable to him. 

I want to go home.” 

The very instant that you may go with safety, you shall 
go,” he readily assented. If the doctor says you may go to- 
morrow, Clara, why we will. I must not have my dear little 
wife grieve like this.” 

No response. She seemed quite exhausted. 

I have brought you a bit of fowl, Clara ; try and eat it.” 

She waved it away, briefly saying she could not touch it : 
she could not eat. -She waved him away, telling him to go to 
his dinner. Mr. Lake simply put the plate down again, and 
stood near her. 

I must go home. I shall die if I stay here.” 

Clara, I 'promise that you shall go. What more can I 
say ? The house is sufficiently habitable now ; there’s nothing 
to detain us. Settle it yourself with the doctor. If he says 
you may travel to-morrow, so be it.” 

She closed her ej^^es — a sign that the contest was over. Mr. 
Lake carried the plate of fowl back to the dining-room, not 
feeling altogether upon the best terms with himself. For the 
first time he was realizing the fact that his wife’s full recovery 
might be a more precarious affair than he had suspected. 

“ I knew she’d not touch it,” said Mrs. Chester j though 
I think she might eat it if she would.” 

Surely she is not sulky ! ” spoke Lady Ellis in an under- 
tone, to Mr. Lake, turning her brilliant and fascinating eyes 
upon him, as he sat down in his place beside her. 


CATCHING A CHILL. 


133 


He was not quite bad. He cared for his wife probably as 
raucli as he had ever done, although he had become enthralled 
by another, according to his light and unsteady nature. A 
haughty flush darkened his brow, and he pointedly turned 
from Lady Ellis without answering. 

It is the breast of the fowl wasted/^ cried thrifty Mrs. 
Chester in her vexation. 

It was not wasted. Mr. Lake took it upon his own plate, 
and made his dinner off it, never speaking a word all the 
while to anybody. 

What of that? With her wiles and her sweet glances, my 
lady won him round again to good-humor ; and before the 
meal was over he was as much her own as ever. But when 
the dessert was put on the table — consisting of a dish of 
apples and another of nuts — Mr. Lake left them to it, and 
went back to his wife. 

She lay on the sofa all the evening. Mrs. Chester grum- 
bled at the imprudence ; but Clara said it was a change for 
the better: she was so tired of her bedroom. Her husband 
waited upon her at tea — a willing slave ; and Clara really said 
a few cheerful words. Lady Ellis challenged him to chess 
again afterwards. Mrs. Chester and Anna sat by Clara. 

“Very shortly,’^ said the doctor, the following morning, in 
answer to the appeal which Mr. Lake himself made. Yearn- 
ing for home, is she? I fancied there was something of the 
sort. Hot to-day : perhaps not to-morrow ; but I tliink you 
may venture to take her the following one, provided the wind’s 
fair. 

^^All right,” was the answer. ^^Tell her so yourself, will 
you, my good sir ? ” 

Clara was told accordingly. And on the third day, sure 
enough, the wind being fair and soft for Hovember, Mr. and 
Mrs. Lake terminated their long sojourn at Guild, and re- 
turned to Katterley. 

Home at last ! In^her exhilaration of spirit, it seemed just 
as though she had taken a renewed lease of happy life. 


134 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

COLOR BLINDNESS. 

The difference of opinion touching the lights at the railway 
station on the night of the fatal accident, continued to create 
no small sensation. The jury turned nearly rampant ; vowing 
they’d not attend the everlastingly adjourned inquest, and 
wanting every time to return no verdict at all, say they could 
not, and have doi\e with it. The coroner told them that was 
impossible ; though he avowed that he did not see his way 
clearly out of it. But for being the responsible party, he 
would have willingly pitched the whole affair into the sea. 

Over and over again did the public recount the circum- 
stances one with another. When anybody could get hold of 
a stranger, hitherto in happy ignorance, he thought himself 
in luck, and went gushingly into all the details. It was a 
stock-in-trade for the local newspapers ; and two of them 
entered on a sharp weekly controversy in regard to it. In 
truth, the matter, that is the conflict in the evidence, was 
most remarkable. That one party should stand to it the lights 
were red, and that the other should maintain they were green, 
was astonishing from the simple fact that both sides were - 
worthy of credit. In the earlier stage of the enquiry the 
coroner had significantly remarked upon the ‘Miard swearing 
somewhere : ” it seemed more of a mystery than ever on 
which side that reproach could attach to. The jur}' could 
arrive at no decision, and thus the inquest had been adjourned 
time after time, and now the county was getting tired of it. 
Cooper, meanwhile suspended from employment, stood a 
chance of being reduced to straits if it lasted much longer. 
The colonel and Oliver Jupp, who had become intimate, made 
rather merry over it when they met, eacjli accusing the other 
of having ‘‘ seen double ; ” but neither would give way an 
inch. The lawyers were confounded, and knew not which 
side to believe ; neither of the two gentlemen had the slightest 
personal interest in the matter; they spoke to further the 
ends of justice alone, and the one and the other were alike 
worthy of credit. 

Affairs were in this unsatisfactory state, when a gentleman 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 


/ 


135 


arrived in the neighborhood on a short sojourn, a Dr Macpher- 
soii, LL.D., F.R.S., and so on ; about seventeen letters in all 
he could put after his name if he chose to do it. He was a 
man great in science, had devoted the most part of his life to 
it, no branch came amiss to him ; he had travelled much and 
was renowned in the world. Amidst other acquirements he 
had phrenology at his fingers’ ends, being as much at home in 
it as we poor unlearned mortals are in reading a newspaper; 
or as Mr. Lake was in making himself agreeable to a pretty 
woman. 

They were staying at the Dose Inn,” at Guild, this 
learned gentleman and his wife. Professor Macpherson (as 
he was frequently called) had come down on some mission 
connected with geology. He was a very wire of a man, tall 
and thin as a lamp-post, exceedingly near-sighted, even in his 
silver-rimmed spectacles that he constantly wore; a meek, 
gentle, utterlj’- simple-minded man, whose coats and hats were 
threadbare, a very cliild in the ways of the world; as these 
excessively abstruse spirits are apt to be. 

Mrs. Macpherson was in all respects his opposite : stout in 
figure, fine in dress, loud in speech ; and keen in the affairs of 
common life. Good hearted enough at the main, but sadly 
wanting in refinement, Mrs. Macpherson rarely pleased at 
first ; in short, not to mince the matter, she was undeniably 
vulgar. Mrs. Macpherson’s education had not been equal to 
her merits ; her early associations were not of the silver-fork 
school. She was a very pretty girl when Caleb Macpherson 
(not the great man he was now) married her ; habit reconciles 
us to most things, and he had discovered no fault in her yet. 
That she made him a good wife was certain, and a very 
capable one. 

This was the second visit Professor Macpherson had made 
to Guild. The first took place about half a dozen years ago, 
when he had come on a question of pneumatics.” Ho had 
then become acquainted with the Deverend Mr. Chester, not 
himself unlearned in science, and had spent several hours of 
three separate days at the rectory. James Chester had gone 
now where science probably avails not ; Mrs. Chester had 
quitted the rectorj^ ; and it might have chanced that the ac- 
quaintanceship would never have been renewed but for an 
accidental meeting. 



136 


THE RED COURT F.\RM. 


wlien she met him. He would have passed her ; her style of 
dress was altered — and for the matter of that he alwa^^s went 
(as his wife put it) mooning on, iiis head in the skies and 
looking at nobody. But Mrs. Chester stopped him. Except 
that he looked t^ler and thinner, and his coat a little more 
thread-bare than of old, and his spectacles staring out 
straighter up at the clouds or at the feir-off horizon, he was 
not altered. 

“ Have you forgotten me. Dr. Macpherson ? ” 

It took the doctor some few minutes to bring himself and 
his thoughts down to the level of passing life. Mrs. Chester 
had to tell him who she was, and that she was now alone in 
the world. He took both her hands in his then, and spoke a 
few words of genuine sympathy, with the sorrowful look in his 
kind eyes, and the tone of true pity coming from his ever- 
•open heart. 

“ You will come and call on me, will you not ? ” she asked, 
after telling him where she lived. 

‘‘I'll come this evening,” he said, “and bring my wife. 
She’s with me this time.” 

So Mrs. Chester went home and told Lady Ellis of the 
promised visit. That lady, who had been fit to die of weari- 
ness since the departure of ^Ir. Lake, welcomed it eagerly ; on 
the principle that even an old professor with seventeen letters 
beyond his name was of the man-species and consequently 
better than nobody. 

“T don’t know his wife,” spoke Mrs. Chester. “ She is 
rather exclusive, most likely. The wife of a man who has 
made so much noise in the world may look down upon us.” 

Lady Ellis raised lier black eyebrows and had a great mind 
to tell Mrs. Chester to speak for herself; she was not accus- 
tomed to be looked down upon. 

“ Does the wife wear a threadbare gown ? ” she asked, hav- 
ing heard the description of the professor’s coats. 

“Very likely,” said Mrs. Chester. “She need not, you 
know ; they are rich.” 

“ Rich, are they ? ” 

“ Very rich — now. In early life they had to pinch and 
screw, and live without a servant. Dr. Macpherson told us 
about it.” 

“ He is not above confessing it, then ? ” 

He ! ” Mrs. Chester laughed. The simple professor 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 


137 


being above confessing anything of that sort, was a ludi- 
crous idea. She attempted to describe him as he was. 

My dear Lady Ellis, you can have no notion of his sim- 
plicity — his utter unworldliness. In all that relates to learning 
and that sort of thing he is of the very keenest intellect; 
sharp ; but in social life he is just a child. He would respect 
a woman who had to wash up her dishes herself just as much 
as he would if she kept ten servants to do it for her. I don't 
believe he can distinguish any difference.” 

“ Oh ! ” concluded Lady Ellis, casting a gesture of contempt 
on the absent and unconscious professor. 

Dr. Macpherson meanwhile, immediately after parting with 
Mrs. Chester, put his hand in bis pocket for his case of gra- 
dients — or whatever the name might be — and found he had 
not got it. To go geologizing or botanizing without it would 
have been so much waste of time, and he turned back to the 
“ Eose.” It w^ well for the evening visit that he did so ; but 
for telling his wife at once while it was fresh in his head, they 
bad never paid it ; for the professor would have forgotten all 
about it in half an hour. 

Mrs. Macpherson sat fanning herself at the window. She 
was a stout woman, comely, redfaced, and jolly ; and the fire 
was large, throwing out a great heat. Her face and that of 
her pale thin husband’s presented a very contrast. She wore 
a bright green silk gown, garnished with scarlet, and scarlet 
bows in her rich lace cap. 

I forgot my case, Betsy,” said he, on entering. 

’Twouldn’t be you, prefessor, if you didn’t forget some’at,” 
returned she, equably. ‘^Eor a man who has had his head 
filled with learning, you be the greatest oaf I know.” 

Accustomed to these compliments from his wife — meekly 
receiving them as his due — ^Dr. Macpherson took up his case, 
a thick pocket-book apparently, the size of a small milestone. 
He then mentioned his meeting with Mrs. Chester, and the 
promised evening visit, which was received favorably. 

“ It’ll be a godsend,” said Mrs. Macpherson. “ With you 
over them writings of yours, and me a-nodding asleep, the 
evenings here is fearful dull. Is the invite for tea and sup- 


per ? ” 

Bather a puzzling question. Tea and supper were so little 
thought of by the professor, that but for his ^vife he might 
never have partaken of either ; and he had to consider for some 
moments before he could hit upon any answer. 


138 


THE BED COURT FA.RM. 


“ I don’t think it is, Betsy ; I only said I’d call.” 

“ Oh ! ” returned Mrs. Macpherson, ungraciously, for sho 
liked good cheer, — “ It’ll hardly be worth going for. It’s not 

a party, then ? ” • i 

The professor supposed not. On these matters ot social 
intercourse his ideas were always misty. He remembered 
that Mrs. Chester said she had a Lady Ellis visiting her, and 


mentioned the fact. 

Mrs. Macpherson brightened up. A Lady Eliis ! Are 
you sure ? 

‘^Yes; I think Pm sure.’’ 

‘'Well now, Caleb, you look here. We must go properly,’ 
said Mrs. Macpherson. “ I never was brought into contract 
with a real live lady in my life ^ I haven’t never had the 
chance of saying ‘ your ladyship,’ except in sport. We’ll 
have out a chaise and pair, and drive up in it.” 

Had sbe proposed to drive up in a chaise and eight, it would 
have been all one to the professor. Conscious of his own 
deficiency on the score of sociality (not sociability) and 
fashion, he had been content this many a year to leave these 
things to her. 

They arrived at Mrs. Chester’s about seven. The chaise 
and pair rattled up to the gate ; but as it was dark night, the 
pomp of the arrival could not be seen from within, and the 
gilt was taken -off the gingerbread. It happened that Mr. 
Lake had come over that afternoon — a rather frequent occur- 
rence — and Mrs. Chester had asked him to stay and see the 
strangers. He and Lady Ellis were at their usual game, 
chess, and Mrs. Chester was at work close b}^, when the 
visitors were announced by JSTanny, the names having been 
given her by the lady — 

“ Professor and Mrs. Macpherson.” 

He came in first — the long, thin, absorbed, self-denying 
man, in his threadbare frock-coat. Mrs. Macpherson had left 
off fighting against these coats long ago. She ordered him in 
new ones in vain. As soon as one came home, he would put 
it on unconsciously, utterly unable to distinguish between that 
and his old one, and go to his work in it : “ his chemical tests, 
and his proofs, and all that rubbish,” as she was in the habit 
of saying. Somehow he had a knack of wearing his coats out 
incredibly quick, or else the poisons and the fires did it for 
him. In a week the new one would be as bad as the rest — 


I 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 


189 


shabby and threadbare. Mrs. Macpberson grew tired at last. 

After all, it don’t much matter/’ was her final conclusion, in 
pardonable pride. “ Good coat or bad coat, he’s Professor 
Macpherson.” His scanty dark hair was brushed smoothly 
across his head, his brown eyes, shining through his spectacles, 
went kindly out in search of Mrs. Chester, who advanced to 
receive him. 

My wife, ma’am ; Mrs. Macpherson.” 

Mrs. Macpherson came in — a ship in full sail. She had 
dressed herself to go into the presence of a real live lady. 
She did not travel without her attire, if he did. The forget- 
ful man was apt to start on a journey with nothing but what 
he stood up in ; she took travelling trunks. 

An amber satin gown with white brocade flowers on it, 
white lace shawl, and small bonnet with nodding bird-of- 
paradise feather, white gloves, flaxen hair.* Lady Ellis simply 
stared while the introductions were gone through and seats 
were taken. Mrs. Macpherson was free and unreserved in her 
conversation with strangers, concealing nothing. 

was as glad as anything when the prefessor said we were 
coming here for a call this evening,” she remarked to Mrs. 
Chester. ^^JSTot knowing a soul in the place, it’s naturally 
dull for me ; and we shall have to stop a week at it, I b’lieve.” 

You were not with Dr. Macpherson last time, when I and 
my late husband had the pleasure of making his acquain- 
tance,” observed Mrs. Chester, surreptitiously regarding the 
bird-of-paradise. 

Not I,” answered Mrs. Macpherson. If I went about 
always with him, I should have a life of it. What with his 
geographies, and his botanies, and his astronomies, and his 
chemistries, and his social sciences, and the meetings he has 
to attend in all parts of the globe, and the country excursions 
the societies make in a body, he is not much at home.” 

‘^This is only the second visit he has paid to Guild, I 
think ? ” 

That’s all. It’s geology this time ; last time it was 

Prefessor, what’s the name of the thing you were down here 
for, last ? ” broke off Mrs. Macpherson. 

Pneumatics,” he answered, looking lovingly at the child, 
Fanny Chester, and a bit of heath she was showing him. 

“Eumatics,” repeated Mrs. Macpherson. Not that I can 
ever understand what it means. The name’s hard enoughj 
let alone the thing itself.” m 


140 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Perhaps the other ladies were in the same blissful ignorance. 
Mr. Lake checkmated his adversary, left her to put up the 
men, and went over to the professor. 

Before tea came in they were out in the garden peering 
about starlight, the remains of an old Boman wall there, 
that Mr. Lake happened to mention, keenly exciting the 
interest of the professor. Mrs. Macpherson was invited to 
take olf her things, and she threw tlm handsome white shawl 
aside ; but having brought no cap, the bird-of-paradise retained 
its place. This much might be said for her, that though an- 
dicted to very gay clothes, tliey were always rich and good. 
Mrs. Macpherson would have worn nothing poor or tawdry. 

^‘How fond they are of tliese miserable bits of things — 
pieces of an old wall, strata of earth, wild plants, and such 
rubbish ! exclaimed Lady Ellis, with acrimony, inwardly 
vexed that Mr. Lake should have gone out a-roving. 

Bubbish it is — your ladyship^s right, spoke Mrs. Macpher- 
son. Leastways, so it seems to us ; but when folks have 
gifted minds, as the prefessor has, why perhaps they can see 
beauties in ’em that’s hid to us others.” 

Not very complimentary on the whole; but Lady Ellis did 
not choose to see it. 

Of course,” she said, your husband is wonderfully 
clever ; he has a world-wide fame. I heard of him in India.” 

Clever on one side, a gander on t’other,” said Mrs. Mac- 
pherson. 

A gander ? ” 

“Well, you’d not say a goose, I suppose. In his sciences 
and his ologies, and his chemicals and his other learnings, 
why he’s uncommon ; there’s hardly his equal, the public 
says. But take him in the useful things of life, your lady- 
ship, and see what he’s good for. Law bless me ! ” 

“ Not for much, I suppose,” laughed Mrs. Chester. 

“ I’d be bound that any child of seven would have more 
sense. But for me helping him to it, he’d never have a meal ; 
no, I don’t believe, as I’m an honest woman, that he’d recol- 
lect to sit down to one. When he’s awa}^ from me, he, as I 
t^l him, goes in for trying to live upon air.” 

' “ Do you mean that he really tries to see if he can live upon 

it ? ” 

“ Bless you, no. He must know he couldn’t. What I 
|j|aean is, that he neglects his food — either forgets it out and 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 141 

out, or does not find time to sit down to it. And then his 
clothes ! Look at the coat he has got on now.^^ 

Neither of the two ladies having particularly noticed the 
coat, they could not make much answering comment. Mrs. 
Macpherson, fond of talking, did not wait for any. 

I wonder sometimes what would become of him, and how 
long he would wear a coat, hut for being looked after. Why, 
till it dropped off his back. I have to put every earthly 
thing ready for him — even to a pocket-handkercher — and 
then he can’t see them. I used to let him have a chest of 
drawers to himself, handlcercliers in one, gloves and collars in 
another, shirts in a third, and so on. He’d want, let’s say, a 
.necktie. Every individual thing would be taken out of every 
drawer, rucked over, thrown on the floor, and he in quite a 
state of agitation. Up I’d go, and show it to him. There it 
would be, staring him in the face, right under his very eyes.” 

And he not seeing it ? ” 

Never. I soon left off letting him have the control of his 
own drawers. I give him one now, and lock up the rest, so 
that he has to call me when he wants things. He’ll have his 
spectacles on his nose and be looking after them ; his hand 
might be touching the ink, and he’d not see it. Ah ! One 
might wonder why such useless mortals were born.” 

“ But the professor is so kind and good,” observed Mrs. 
Chester. 

“I didn’t say he wasn’t; I’m not complaining of him,” re- 
turned the professor’s lady, giving a nod to the bird-of- 
paradise. “ One tells these things as one would tell stories of 
a child that’s not responsible for its actions. His brains are 
too clever, you know, for ordinary life. Thank ye, ma’am, 
I like it pretty sweet. There again, in the small matter of 
sugar : put the cup half full, or put in none at all, and it’s all 
one to the prefessor ; he’d never notice the difference.” 

^^I once knew a very clever but very absent man who went 
to a wedding in his slippers,” said Lady Ellis, leaning back in 
her armchair and speaking languidly for the benefit of the 
lady opposite. He had forgotten to put his boots on.” 

Tliat’s nothing; your ladyship should live for a month 
with Prefessor Macpherson. I’ve quaked in fear before now 
of seeing him go out without worse things than boots.” 

Mrs. Chester laughed ; and what further revelations might 
have been made were put an end to by the entrance of the 


142 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


professor himself and Mr. Lake. They came in talking 
eagerly, not of the Roman wall, but of the late fatal railway 
accident. Mr. Lake was giving him the details, and especially 
those relating to the conflicting nature of the evidence. As 
soon as Dr. Macpherson had mastered the particulars, he gave 
it as his opinion that it must be a case of color-blindness. 

“ Of color-blindness ? ” echoed Mr. Lake. 

“Rely upon it, it is a case of color-blindness on one side or 
the other,’^ continued the professor, who was now showing 
himself in his element, the keen man of science, the sensible, 
sound-judging reasoner. And so well did he proceed to argue 
the matter, so aptly and clearly did he lay the case before 
them, that Mr. Lake was half converted ; and it was decided 
that the theory should be followed up. 

On the next day the professor was brought into contact 
with Colonel West and Oliver Jupp, Mr. Lake having 
arranged a meeting at his own house. One or two friends 
were also present. The subject was entered upon, and the 
professor’s opinion given. Oliver Jupp believed he might be 
right; the colonel was simply astonished at the assertion. 

“ Not know colors ! cried he. “ Not able to tell white 
from black ! Wh}^, what have our eyes been about all our 

lives, Mr. Professor ? Mj^ sight is keen and clear ; I can 
ansvA^er for that; and Pve not heard that there’s anything 
amiss with Mr. Oliver Jupp’s.” 

“ It has nothing whatever to do with a keen sight — in the 
way you are thinking of,” returned Dr. Macpherson. “ Nay, 
it frequently happens that those who are afflicted with color- 
blindness possess a remarkably good and clear sight. The 
defect is not in the vision : it lies in the absence of the organ 
of color.” 

“ That’s logic,” laughed the colonel, who had never heard 
of such a theor}", and did not believe many others had. 

“ Look here,” said the professor, endeavoring to put the 
case in an understandable light. “You will allow that men are 
diflerentlj’' endowed. One man will have the gift of calcula- 
tion in an eminent degree ; he will go through a whole ledger 
swimmingly, while his friend by his side is laboring at a 
single column of it: another will possess the organ of music 
so largely that he will probably make you a second Mozart ; 
but his own brother can’t tell one tune from another, and 
could not learn to play if his very life depended on it : this 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 


143 


man will draw you, untaught, plans and buildings of wondrous 
and beautiful design ; that one, who has served bis stupid 
apprenticeship to tlie art, cannot accomplish a pigsty, fit for a 
civilized pig to live in — and so I might go on, illustrating 
examples all. Am I right or wrong ? he concluded, turning 
his spectacles full on his attentive listeners. 

Right,^^ they all said, including Colonel West. 

^Wery well,^^ resumed the professor. ^^Then I would ask 
you, gentlemen, why should color be an exception ? I mean 
the capability of perceiving it; the faculty of distinguishing 
one shade from another ? 

There was no immediate answer. The professor went on. 

“ This brain is totally deficient in the organ of tune ; that 
one is deficient in some other faculty ; a third in something 
else : why should not the organ of color sometimes fail ? 

I thought everybody possessed the organ of color,” 
observed Mr. Lake. 

The greater portion of people do possess it ; but there are 
many who do not.” 

Colonel West, unconvinced, was rather amused than other- 
wise. ‘^And you think, sir, that I and Mr. Oliver Jupp do 
not possess it,” he said, laughing. 

Pardon me,” replied the professor, laughing also, “ I never 
said you both did not. Had that been the case, you probably 
would not have been in opposition to each other. But I have 
been using my own eyes since we stood here, and I see which 
of you has the defect. One of you possesses the organ of 
color (as we call it) in a full degree ; the other does not possess 
it at all. It lies here.” 

Hr. Macpherson raised his fingers to his ej^ebrow, and 
pointed out a spot near its middle. The colonel and Oliver 
Jupp immediately passed their fingers over their eyebrows, 
somewhat after the manner of a curious child. Oliver’s eye- 
brows were prominent ; the colonel’s remarkably fiat. 

You can testify by experiment whether I am right or 
wrong. Colonel West; but I give it as my opinion that you 
are not able to distinguish colors.” 

For some moments the ^colonel could not find his tongue. 

I never heard of such a thing in all my life ! ” cried he. 

Ho you mean to say that I can see the blue sky” (turning 
his face upwards), “ and not know it’s blue ? ” 

You know it is blue, and call it blue, because you have 


144 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


heard it so called all your life,” returned the undaunted pro- 
fessor. ‘^But, if half the sky were blue and half green, you 
would not be able to say which was the green half and which 
the blue.” 

That caps everything,” retorted the colonel, in high good- 
humor. “It’s a pity my wife can’t hear this; she’d shake 
hands with you at once. She has, you must know, a couple of 
garden parasols : one green, the other blue. If she sends me 
indoors for the green, she says I bring her the blue ; and if 
for the blue, I bring the green. She sets it down to inatten- 
tion, and lectures me accordingly.” 

“You could not have given us a better confirmation that my 
opinion is correct,” said Professor Macpherson, glancing at the 
group around. “ Your wife has set this down to inattention, 
you say, colonel. May I ask what you have set it down to ? ” 

“ I ? Not to anything. I never troubled myself to think 
about it. ■ 

The learned gentleman rubbed his hands with satisfaction. 
“ What you acknowledge is so true to nature, colonel ! Those 
who, like you, are affected with color-blindness, can rarely be 
brought to believe in their own defect. It is a fact that the 
greater portion of them are not conscious of it ; they really 
don’t know that they cannot distinguish colors. Some few 
have perhaps a dim idea that they are not so quick in that 
particular as others, but they never think of questioning the 
cause. To use your own expression, it does not trouble them. 
I understand you maintain that on the night of the accident 
the usual light was up — green ? ” 

“Yes,” said the colonel. “They exhibit the green light 
alwa^’s at Coombe Dalton station, to enforce caution, on 
account of the nasty turning just after passing it. ' I main- 
tain, as you say, that the customary green light was shown 
that night.” 

“Now I will tell you how to account for that belief,” said 
the professor. “ It was not so much that 3^11 could be sure the 
gree7i light was up, as that you could not distinguish any differ- 
ence between the one you saw, and the one ^mu were accus- 
tomed to see. You could not discern the difierence I say, and 
therefore you maintain it to be, as you believed, the same one — 
the green.” 

“ This seems plausible enough, as you state it,” acknowl- 
edged Colonel West, at length. “But pray whj^ sliould it not 
be my young friend, Jupp, who was mistaken— and not I ? ” 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 


145 


The professor shook his liead. I am quite sure that this 
gentleman — indicating Oliver Jupp — can never be mistaken 
in colors or in their shades, so long as he retains his eyesight 
to see anything : he has the organ very largely developed. I 
am right, colonel,’^ he added, nodding. 

But what do you say to Cooper, the driver ? returned the 
colonel. He says the light was green : and everybody 
agrees that he would only assert what was true.^^ 

“ What he thought was true,’^ corrected Dr. Macpherson. 

There is little doubt, in my mind, that Cooper’s case will turn 
out to be like your own — a fact of color-blindness. He could 
not distinguish the difference in the light from the ordinary 
light, and therefore believed it to be the same.” 

Both of us blind ! ” exclaimed the colonel, with wdde-open 
eyes. That would be too good, Mr. Professor.” 

“ I said only color-blind,” corrected the professor. There 
is not the least doubt that it will turn out to be so.” 

And he carried the opinions of nearly all present with him. 
It seemed, indeed, to be the only feasible solution of the diffi- 
cult}^ ; and so the gentlemen said to each other as they dis- 
persed. 

I promised to take you in to see my wife,” whispered Mr. 
Lake to the man of science, arresting him as he w^as departing. 

Clara was sitting in an easy-chair, a shawl on her shoulders; 
but she looked up brightl}^ when the professor entered. If the 
old feeling of secure happiness had not come back again, a 
portion of it had ; and she said to everybody that she was 
getting well. Mary Jupp was with her. They had felt half 
scared at the thought of encountering familiarly so renowned 
a man. He turned out to be a very shy and simple one — in 
manners, at least; and Miss Jupp, in the revulsion of relieved 
feeling, nearly talked him deaf. 

She’s a pretty thing, that young man’s wife,” observed the 
professor to Mrs. Macpherson, when he had got back to Guild. 
•^But I’d not like lo take an insurance on her life.” 

I never knew you had turned doctor, professor.” 

It does not require a doctor’s eye to see when a blossom’s 
delicate, Betsy. And those delicate blossoms want a vast deal 
of care.” 

The strange opinion avowed by Dr. Macpherson, that the 
matter which had been puzzling the world so long, would turn 
out to be a case of color-blindness, excited the wonder of the 
9 


146 


THE RED COURT FA.RM. 


simple country people. In these rural districts men are con- 
tent to live without science, and cannot well understand 
it when it is brought home to them. This opinion, 
nevertheless, coming from so great an authority, obtained 
v/eight with all, causing some commotion ; and it was resolved 
to test the siglit of the unfortunate driver. Cooper. Colonel 
West proposed, half jokingly, half seriously, tliat his own eyes 
should also be tested. It would set the matter at rest in his 
mind, he said. Mrs. AVest devoutly wished she could be 
present, and see the solution of what had bgen hitherto inex- 
plicable. I’d used to tell that husband of mine he couldn’t 
see colors,” she exclaimed to a select audience, “ but I didn’t 
really suppose it was so ; I thought he was careless and 

stupid.” T • • 

Oil the evening fixed for the test, those concerned m it 
assembled at the station of Coombe Dalton. Matthew Cooper 
came from Katterley in obedience to the summons sent for him. 
Colonel West, Mr. Lake, Oliver Jupp, the coroner, and some 
of the jury were present: and others also with whom we have 
had nothing to do. 

The instant that Professor Macpherson cast his eyes on 
Cooper’s face, he found his anticipation verified. The man 
labored under the defect of color-blindness, in even a greater 
degree than Colonel West. 

They proceeded to the trial. Lamps of various colors were 
in readiness, and the Professor was constituted master of the 
ceremonies. He commenced his task by running up a light 
to the signal-post. Colonel West and Cooper stood a little 
forward ; the coroner and other interested people, official and 
otherwise, behind ; the mob behind them ; all at a convenient 
distance from the lights. 

What light is that ? ” asked Dr. Macpherson of the two 
who were on trial, amidst breathless silence. 

A momentary pause. Colonel West and Cooper turned 
their eyes up to the raised lamp ; the crowd turned theirs. 

“ It’s green,” said the colonel. 

It’s red,” said Cooper. 

And there rose a general laugh. For the lamp was blue. 

Two lamps were next turned up. 

What are they ? ” was the demand. 

A dead silence ensued. Neither Coojper nor ^ the colonel 
ooiM tell. 


COLOR BLINDNESS. 14*7 

I ask what are the colors of these two lamps repeated 
the professor. 

1 think they are green and white/’ hazarded Cooper at 
length. 

And I say they are red and blue/’ cried the colonel. 

They were white and blue. 

Then the four lamps were exhibited, green, red, white, and 
blue, and the mistakes made by both essayists kept the plat- 
form in a roar. The colonel did tell which was the white — 
but it was probably more of a guess than a certainty. Tliej^ 
could distinguish a difference,” they said, between two or 
more colors when exhibited at once, but were unable to state 
what that difference was. Both of tliem were honestly 
anxious that the test should be fully carried out, and answered 
to the utmost of their ability. Various colors were exhibited, 
sometimes two of nearly the same shade : it all came to the 
same. Long before the experiment came to an end, the fact 
had been full}^ established that both Colonel West and Mat- 
thew Cooper labored under the defect of color-blindness. 

Cooper,” said Oliver J upp, in a good-natured tone, they 
must never make an engine-driver of you again.” 

^^Welb, I don’t know, sir,” returned Cooper, who seemed 
very chapfallen, ^Of it’s true what this strange gentleman 
says, wh\^ — I suppose it is true. But I hope they’ll make 
something else of me ; I know I am keen enough at most 
things. If a man is deficient in one line, he may be all the 
quicker in another.” 

‘^Now you have given utterance to a truism, without per- 
haps knowing it,” interposed the professor, cheerily. ^‘Be 
assured that where a defect does exist, it is amply made up for 
by the largeness of some other gift. Never fear that an intel- 
ligent man, like you, will want enployment, because you are 
found not suited to the one they placed you on.” 

About the worst they could have given him, as it turns 
out,” remarked Oliver Jupp, as he stood aside with the pro- 
fessor out of the hearing of others. An engine-driver ought, 
of all men, to be able to distinguish colors.” 

“ There are some of our engine-drivers who do not, though,” 
was the repl}-, as the professor cautiously lowered his voice. 

Several of our worst accidents have occurred from this very 
fact.” 

“ Do you tliink so ? ” 


148 


THJi RED COURT FARM. 


I know it. It is a more frequent defect than would he 
thought, this absence of the organ of color, hut it is one to 
which little attention has been hitherto given ; a subject that 
with some excites ridicule. A company engaging an engine- 
driver would as soon think of testing his capacity for eating a 
good dinner, as that of being able to distinguish signal lights. 
Most essentially necessary is it, though, that drivers, present 
or future, shoufd undergo the examination.^’ 

'' It seems so to me,” said Oliver. “ And always will seem 
so — after this night’s experiment.” 

And until such examination is made general, I should 
change the form of the signal lamps,” remarked Dr. Macpher- 
son. Let the safety signal be of one uniform shape, and 
small ; let the red, or danger signal, be of as ditterent a shape 
as can be made, and large ; so different that it could never fail 
to catch the eye. Dor, look you, a head, deficient in the organ 
of color, will usually have that of form very much developed : 
and if a driver could not see the light, he might the form : and 
so save his train.” 

Quite right,” said Oliver. 

In many of the railway calamities we read of, you find 
that a difference of testimony exists as to the color of the 
signal exhibited. One side or the other is supposed to swear 
falsely ; just as it has been in this case. But for the testimony 
of Colonel West, the jury would have returned a verdict 
against Cooper at once, and convicted him of falsehood. But 
rely upon it, the cause, generally speaking, of these conflicting 
and painful cases lies not in false swearing, but in color- 
blindness.” 

So concluded the professor. And so was concluded the 
long-adjourned puzzle that had set Coombe Dalton together 
by the ears. Once more the inquest was called for the last 
time; and the jury returned a verdict of “ Accidental death.” 
In the face of the proved defect in Cooper’s capacity for dis- 
tinguishing the different signals, how could they with justice 
punish him ? He was sent forth, a free man so far, but dis- 
charged from his employment to begin the world again.” 

Now, my friendly readers, the above is a bit of honest 
truth ; a fact from the past. It may be that you will not be- 
lieve it ; may feel inclined to cavil at it. But search cases out 
and mark fbr yourselves. Blindness to color is a far more 
common defect than the world suspects: it has existed — and 
does exist — in some of the railway-engine guards and drivers. 


MARY JUPP’S EXPLOSION. 


149 


CHAPTER X. 

MARY JUPP’s EXPLOSION 

A FROSTY day in December. Time bad gone on, winter bad 
come in : tbe seasons go tbeir round, whatever the world may 
be doing. 

How grew Clara Lake ? Better ? Well, she did not seem 
to grow much better ; at any rate, she was not well, and 
tbe old doctor at Katterley, who bad known her constitution 
from infancy, appeared puzzled. She dressed as in her days of 
bealtb, and went about tbe bouse : on fine days would go out 
for a walk in tbe sunshine : but she remained weak and debil- 
itated, and could not get rid of her cough. 

Compared to tbe dangerous attack she bad at Guild, of 
course her present state seemed to be a vast improvement. 
On first coming home, tbe change for tbe better appeared to be 
marvellous ; and Mr. Lake, never seeing anything but the 
bright side of things, congratulated himself that she was well 
again. Tbe improvement did not go on as it ought to have 
gone ; but the falling ofi‘ was so gradual, tbe increasing 
degrees of weakness were so imperceptible, that be neither saw 
nor suspected either. Had any one told him bis wife was in a 
bad wa}^, be bad simply stared in amazement. Latterly tbe 
inertness, tbe seeming debility bad certainly made itself ap- 
parent to him, but only as a dim idea; so little importance did 
be attach to it, that be set it all down to apathy on bis wife’s 
part, and chided her for not “ rousing herself.” He did not 
mean to be unkind ; never think that of him ; for bis wife be 
would have gone tbrougli fire and water, as tbe saying runs; 
but lie was light, unobservant by nature, and careless. 

He was enjoying himself immensely. Cliiefly dividing bis 
leisure time between Katterley and Guild. To-day be would 
be at home with bis wife, to-morrow with Lady Ellis ; tbe 
afiectionate husband to tbe one, saying soft nothings (it must 
be supposed) to tbe other. Of course be never went for tbe 
sake of seeing my lady ; certain!}^ not ; there was an excuse 
ever ready. Mrs. Chester bad given him this commission, and 
be must go and report to her ; or Mrs. Chester bad given him 
tbe other ; or she wanted to -consult him on her affairs, which 


150 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


were going downwards ; or lie went over to escort some of 
tlie Jupps 5 or he had business with his tailor ; for he had 
fallen into a freak to employ one who lived at Guild. On one 
plea or another, a plausible excuse for taking him to Guild 
never failed. 

The fault of this lay partially with Mrs. Chester. Nearly 
at her wits’ end lest Lady Ellis, wearied with the monotony 
of the house, should leave her ; plainly seeing that Mr. Lake s 
visits were the sole attraction that kept her, Mrs. Chester 
invented demands upon him to draw him over to Guild. 
That the confidential footing on which he and Lady Ellis 
continued was scarcely seemly for a married man, Mrs. 
Chester completely ignored. She shut her eyes to it ; just as 
she had shut them in the days when Clara was at Guild. I 
am telling the simple truth of the woman, and things took 
place exactly as I am relating them. What mattered it to 
Mrs. Chester whether the wife’s feelings were pained, out- 
raged, so long as her own ends were served ? Clara was at a 
safe distance, seeing nothing ; and, after all, there was but a 
bit of passing nonsense between them — there was no real 
wrong, reasoned Mrs. Chester in her sophistry. What the 
eye does not see the heart cannot rue.” 

‘^But Mr. Lake ought not to have given way to her,” 
remonstrates the upright reader. Of course lie ought not, 
everybody knows that ; but he liked the pastime. Lady Ellis 
made herself uncommonly attractive to him, and it never 
occurred to him to see that she ought not to have done so. 
She was exacting now ; saying to him “ You must come to- 
morrow,” or ^^You must come the next day.” They rode 
together and walked together as before ; not so much, because 
it was winter weather ; and they strolled out in the wide 
gardens in the dim afternoons, and sat alone very much in the 
drawing-room by twilight. 

Unfortunately these pleasant arrangements were not kept 
from Clara. If she had partially forgotten her jealousy upon 
returning home, her husband’s constant visits to Guild, and 
the whispers reaching her from thence, brought it back in all 
its unhapp}’^ force. She was not told purposely. Of the 
Jupps, the only one whose eyes were open to the flirtation 
going on — that is, to a suspicion that it was deeper than it 
ought to be, considering that Mr. Lake had a wife — was the 
eldest of them, Mary. She held her tongue. But the others, 


MARY JUPP’S EXPLOSION. 


151 


after a day spent at Guild, would jokingly allude in Clara’s 
hearing to the soft hours spent together by him and Lady 
Ellis, and tell her she ought to keep her husband in better 
order. They meant nothing. Had Clara been there she 
might have thought far less of it than she was doing; incer- 
titude always increases suspicion, just as jealousy makes the 
food it feeds on. So Mrs. Lake sat at home with her cough, 
and her increasing weakness, and her miserable torture ; con- 
scious of little save one great fact, that her husband was per- 
petually at Guild. Had he gone more openly, as it wxre, 
without framing (as he invariably did) some plausible plea for 
the journe}’^, she had thought less. What could Clara do? 
Could she descend to say to him, you shall not go there? 
No ; she suffered in silence ; but it was killing her. 

A bright December morning, clear and frosty, Mrs. Lake 
was seated at the window in their comfortable room making 
tiny little flannel petticoats. There was a good deal of dis- 
tress in Katterley, and she was intending to give warm 
garments to sundry poor half-naked children. Stooping over 
the work, her cheeks had acquired their hectic tinge, seen 
frequently now, otherwise the face was pale and thin ; the 
fingers were attenuated. Mr. Lake, wlio had been looking at 
the newspaper, reading occasional scraps of news from it to 
his wife, rose from his chair by the fire and stretched himself. 

How busy you are, little wife ! Who on earth are all 
those small things for ? ” 

The poor children in the cottages by the brick-fields. 
They are so badly off, Ilobert,” she added, glancing up, with a 
pleading Iqok. “I could not help doing something for them.” 

^^All right, my dear; do whatever you like. Only don’t 
over-work 3murself.” 

Tliere’s no fear of that. Elizabeth will do part of them , 
and Mary Jupp is coming to help me.” 

What a lovelv" daj^ it is for December ! ” he added, looking 
at the sparkling sunlight. 

^Weiy. It almost tempts me to go out.” 

“ I will take you to-morrow, Clara ; I must go to Guild to- 
day.” 

Mrs. Lake resumed her work with trembling fingers. 

Penelope’s watch is at Van Buren’s. I promised faith- 
fully to take it to her to-da}’'.” 


152 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


‘^Are there no watchmakers at Guild, that Mrs. Chester 
should send her watch to Katterley ? ’’ 

don’t know. I brought it to him at her request a 
fortnight ago. Van Buren has a great name in his trade, you 
know.” 

As he spoke he looked at his own watch ; it was time to 
depart. 

Shall you be home to dinner, Bobert ? ” 

“ No. But I shall to tea. I shall be in by the seven train. 
Good-bye, Clary.” 

She raised her face with its crimson hectic color, the result 
of emotion, to receive his farewell kiss. It’s loveliness could 
but strike him. 

How well you are getting to look, my darling,” he said, 
tenderly. 

And it would no doubt have astonished Mr. Lake excessive- 
ly could he have glanced back at his wife through the garden 
and the walls of the house as he went off, gaily whistling. 
Dropping her work on the floor, she fell into a storm of sobs 
in her utter self-abandonment. Miss Jupp came in, and so 
found her. 

Clara ! Clara ! ” 

Up she- got : but to affect indifference was an impossibility. 
Mary Jupp, greatly shocked, took the sorrowful foce in her 
sheltering arms. 

^‘Tell me what it is, Clara. Open your poor little heart to 
me, my dear. I am older than you by many years, and have 
had trouble myself. Where’s your husband ?” 

Gone to Guild.” 

Oh,” said Miss Jupp, shortly, who had her private opinion 
on many things. “ Well, dear, he has got a nice da}^ for it.” 

Clara dried her eyes and stifled her sobs, and sat down to 
work again. 

am so stupid,” she said, in a tone of apology. Since 
m}^ illness I don’t feel strong; it makes me cry sometimes.” 

Mary Jupp said no more, perhaps wisely. She took her 
things oft* and remained the day. And Mr. Lake got home, 
not by seven at night, but bj^ the last train. 

Christmas approached, and Mrs. Lake got thinner and 
weaker. Still her husband suspected nothing amiss. She 
rose in the morning, went through her duties, such as they 
were, and had a bright color. How was he, an unobservant 


MAHY JUPP’S EXPLOSION. 


153 


man by nature and habit, to detect that it was all wrong? 
Had he suspected the truth, none would have been more 
anxiously troubled than he. 

It was in Clara Lake’s nature to conceal what was amiss. 
With these reticent temperaments, a great grief touching the 
heart, a grief unto death, never can be spoken of. At the 
last, perhaps, when hours are numbered, but not alwaj^s then. 
He saw no signs of it ; the low spirits, the nervous weakness 
were given way to when alone ; never before him. Except 
that she had grown strangely still and quiet, he saw no 
alteration. She tried to be cheerful, and succeeded often. 

So the daj^s, as I have said, glided on, bringing the end 
nearer and nearer. Mr. Lake went on his heedless way, and 
she sat at home and did silent battle with the anguish that 
was killing her. Her history is drawing to a close. The 
world, going round in its hard, matter-of-hict reality, is apt to 
laugh at such stories ; but they are taking place, for all that^ 
in some of its nooks and corners. 

One day, when it wanted but three or four to Christmas, 
Mr. Lake tempted his wife into the greenhouse to see his 
winter plants. She was more cheerful than customary — ■ 
talked more ; an artificial renovation had brought back some 
of the passing strength. 

“ Clarj^, I have promised to spend Christmas-day with 
Penelope.” 

A sudden rush of color to her wasted cheeks, a pause, and 
a response that came forth faintly. 

“ Have yo\x ? ” 

She said how dull it would be for us at home, and would 
not take a denial. You will be able to go ? ” 

I go I siie glanced at him in surprise, and shook her 
head. 

Why not ? ” 

I am too ill.” 

Mr. Lake felt annoyed. The proposed expedition had been 
presenting itself to his mind in a very agreeable light: for 
his wife to set her face against it, whether on the plea of ill- 
health or any other plea, would be especially provoking. 

My dear, I tell you what it is,” he said in a voice that 
betrayed his temper, “ you will fancy yourself ill and lie-by 
and stay at home, until it ends in your being ill.” 

“ Do you think I am well ? ” 


154 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


“You are not strong; but if you would rouse yourself, 
and go more out, and shake off fancies, you would soon become 
so. An illness, such as yours was in the autumn, leaves its 
weakening effects behind it as a matter of course ; but there’s 
no sense in giving way to them.” 

“'I go out sometimes.” 

“ Just for a walk or so ; that does little good. What you 
want is cheerful society ; change. You liave not been once to 
Guild since we came home.” 

“ You make up for it, then ; you are there often enough.” 

She could not help the retort; it seemed to slip from her 
tongue unguided. Mr. Lake kicked out at a broken pot. 

“ Something or other is always happening to take me there. 
Mrs. Chester loads me with commissions, and I don’t like to 
refuse to execute them.” ^ 

They went in. Mr. Lake returned to the charge. 

“ You will go on Christmas-day, Clary, won’t you ? Pene- 
lope is preparing for us.” 

“ No ; I am not well enough. And if I were, I should 
prefer to be at home. Say no more,” she added, almost 
passionately interrupting what he was about to urge. “You 
ought not to wish me to go there.” 

A long silence. “ I shall go. I must. I can’t get off it.” 

She did not speak. 

“What is to be done, Clara? It will never do for me to 
spend Christmas-day there, and 3’ou to spend it at home.” 
And he finished the clause b}^ breaking out, half-singing, half- 
muttering, with the lines of a popular ditty that our child- 
hood was familiar with — 

“ To morrow is our wedding-day, and all the world would stare 
If wife should dine at Edmonton, and I should dine at Ware.’* 

She sat with her hands folded before her, and did not im- 
mediately answer. If he could not tell what was to be done, 
or what ought to be done, she would not. Mr. Lake looked at 
her and waited. 

“You must do as you think rights’ she said, la^dng a slight 
stress upon the word. “ I am too unwell to be anywhere but 
at home on Christmas-day.” 

Mr. Lake left the room, whistling to hide liis anger. Had 
he possessed the worst wife in the world he had never re- 
proached or quarrelled with her. Some men cannot be 


MARY JUPP’S EXPLOSION. 


155 


actively unkind to women, and lie was one. He thought her 
very obstinate, unreasonably so, and said to himself that he 
would go to Guild. If Clara did not come to her senses 
beforehand and accompany him, his going without her would 
bring her to them after. Hot another word was said between 
them ; each seemed to avoid the subject. 

Christmas-day dawned, cloudy but tolerably fine. Mr. 
Lake was going to Guild. Hot doing exactly as he thought 
'n.ght, iov his conscience was giving him a sharp twinge or two, 
but following the bias of his inclination, which urged him 
into the sunshine of my Lady Ellis’s smiles. Clara felt worse 
^hat morning, dreadfully weak and languid, but she put on 
her things to attend church. Mr. Lake went with her, and 
they sat out the service together. At its termination he rose 
to quit the church; she remained. 

Shall you not be too tired with the long service, Clara 
he whispered. You had better leave it until another oppor- 
tunity.” 

Please ^don’t ! let me stay.” 

There was something in the pleading words — in the plead- 
ing up-turned glance of the wan face, that struck upon him 
as being strange, leaving a momentarily unpleasant impres- 
sion He never stayed the sacrament himself, and went out. 

She gathered herself into the corner of their high, broad, 
old-fashioned pew, and knelt down, leaning her arms and head 
on the seat. An intense weariness was upon her frame and 
spirit ; she did not feel things as keenly as she used — it was 
as if the world were drifting away from her. Her soul was 
longing for the comfort of the approaching rite— for its co/n- 
fort. Ah, my friends, we kneel periodically at the altar, and 
take the bread and wine, and hope that we return comforted 
and refreshed. Believe me, it is but those from whom the 
comfort of this world has utterly departed who can indeed 
realize what that other comfort is, and how great our need of 
It. Only when earth and its interests fail us, when the silver 
cord IS loosed, the golden bowl broken — in that hour do we 
desire the rest from travail’, as a yearning longing. That 
lour had come for Clara Lake: she knelt there, feeling that 
earth had no longer a place for her,— the home above was 
ready for her,— the Kedeemer at hand to welcome her, and 
take her to God. 

She walked home quietly, a dim consciousness upon her that 


166 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


it might be the last time she should partahe of the sacrament 
here. It was not far off two o^clock, and Mr. Lake was walk- 
ing about, all impatience, for his train started at five minutes 
past. She had thought he would be gone. 

I waited for you, Clary. Won^t you come with me ? 

Indeed I cannot.’^ 

“ Then it’s a case of Johnny Gilpin.” 

With a farewell to his wife, full of paraded affection, Mr. 
Lake took himself off to the station, telling his wife to be sure 
and eat a good dinner and drink everybody’s health in cham- 
pagne, including his and her own. 

In spite of the inward peace that was hers, she was feeling^ 
terribly dispirited. A fond thought had delusively whispered 
that, after all, perhaps he might not go. She remembered the 
epoch of her dream ; how he had stayed at home then in 
tender consideration of her wishes. Things were altered now. 

At three o’clock she sat down to dinner, cutting herself a 
small slice from the turkey placed before her. When the 
sauces were brought round she simply shook her Jiead. She 
had no appetite : an oppressive feeling of bitter grief sat on 
her spirit; the tears dropped on her plate silently, and she 
could not control them. 

Presently she laid down her knife and fork, the little bit of 
meat only half eaten. Elizabeth ventured to remonstrate. 

I can’t swallow it ; it is like dry chips in my throat.” 

And no wonder, ma’am : the meat’s dry by itself. And 
such delicious bread-sauce and gravy that’s here.” 

Sauce or ]io sauce, gravy or no gravy, Mrs. Lake could not 
eat. They brought in the pudding. She cut it, eat a mouth- 
ful, and sent it away again. 

Leaving her to her solitary dessert — for her a mere matter of 
form — the servants sat down to their own dinner. Some short 
time had elapsed, when Elizabeth thought she heard a noise in 
tlie dining parlor, and went in to see if her mistress wanted 
anything. A cry of alarm burst from the girl as she opened 
the door : Mrs. Lake was lying on the carpet.” 

Whether she had fainted — whether she had been crossing 
the room and fell over anything — could not then be ascer- 
tained. As the servants raised her, a thin stream of blood 
issued from her mouth. Nearly beside tliemselves with terror, 
they laid her on the sofa, and Elizabeth ran for the doctor. 
She had to pass Mr. Jupp’s house, and on her return it oc- 


MARY JUPP’S EXPLOSION. 


157 


curred to Elizabeth to call and ask to see Miss Jupp. That 
young lady came out to her from the dining-room, her mouth 
full of turkey. 

Good gracious ! ” she exclaimed, half petrified at the ne ws. 

Burst a blood-vessel ! Eying ! Is any one with her besides 
Mr. Lake?^^ 

He is not with her — there’s nobody with her,” answered 
Elizabeth. That’s why I made bold to disturb you, miss. 
He is gone off to dine at Mrs. Chester’s.” 

Catching up a garden hat and woollen shawl that hung 
close at hand, Mary J upp flung them on without a moment’s 
pause for consideration, and started at a gallop down the 
street. The worthy shopkeepers, standing at their sitting-room 
windows, saw the transit with amazement, and thought the 
eldest Miss Jupp had gone suddenly mad. She was in the 
house before Er. Marlow : his old steps were slow at the best — 
her’s fleet. Mrs. Lake had broken a vessel on the chest or 
lungs. 

“ There is no immediate danger, as I hope,” said the old 
doctor in Miss Jupp’s ear; but her husband ought to be 
here.” Mary looked at her watch, and found that she had just 
time to catch a train. 

But that Mary Ann Jupp was a strong-minded female, she 
might not have cared to go a journey on Christmas-day in the 
guise she presented. It ma}^ be questioned if she as much as 
gave a thouglit to her attire, except to remember that there 
was no time to go home and change it. In addition to being 
strong-minded, she was also an exceedingly upright-minded, 
right-feeling young woman, and had for a long while past 
greatly condemned what was going on — the absurd intimacy 
between Mr. Lake and Lady Ellis, and his consequent neglect 
of his wife. Her ej^es had been open to it if nobod}^ else’s 
had; and Mary Jupp, in her impulsive way, had threatened 
herself that she should one day have it out with the lot.” 
That day had come. 

Very considerably astonished was Mr. Lake to find himself 
burst in upon by Mary Jupp. Mrs. Chester and Lady Ellis 
looked up in amaze* They had dined together, a family party, 
and Mrs. Chester’s children, with Anna and the two Clapper- 
ton girls, who were guests that day, had retired to another 
room to make what noise they pleased, leaving the trio round 
the comfortable fire, wine and good things on the table behind 


158 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


them. Miss Jupp walked in without notice or ceremony. 
Her old red woollen shawl had jagged ends and a slit ; her 
brown hat, white once, was vastlj^ disreputable, and had a 
notch in the brim. Excited and out of breath having run all 
the way from Guild station, she walked straight up to Mr. 
Lake and spoke. 

Would you see your wife before she dies ? ” 

He had risen and stood in consternation. Mrs. Chester 
rose. She sat still, calmly equable, listening and looking. 
Mr. Lake’s lips turned white as he asked Miss J upp for an ex- 
planation. 

It was given in a sharp, ringing tone. Mrs. Lake had been 
found on the floor in her solitary dining-room, and when they 
lifted her up blood issued from her mouth. A vessel of some 
sort liad given way. Hr. Marlow was with her, and said that 
Mr. Lake ought to be found. “ Will you go to her ? ” asked 
the 3mung lad}' as she finished her recital 5 ^‘or shall I go back 
and take word that you will not ? 

Why do 3"Ou sa}^ that to me ? ” he asked with emotion. ^ 

My ‘'dear Miss Jupp ! ” struck in Mrs. Chester, in a voice 
of remonstrance. 

''Why do I say it to you?” retorted Mary Jupp, in her 
storm of angry indignation. " It is time some one said it to 
you. You have been killing her by inches : yes, I speak to 
all of .you,” she added, turning about upon them. " You have 
been killing his wife by inches : jmu, Angeline Ellis, with 
your false and subtle snares ; and 3"ou, Penelope Chester, with 
your complacent winking at sin. He is weak and foolish — 
look at him, as he stands there in his littleness !— but he 
would scarcely have been wicked, had not you drawn him to 
it. You wonder that I can thus speak out ’’—drowning sorite 
interrupted words of Mrs. Chester’s — " is it right for me to be 
silent, a hypocritical glosser over of crime, When she is djdng ? 
I am an English gentlewoman, with a gentlewoman’s princi- 
ples about me, and I hope some Christian ones ; it behoves 
such to speak out sometimes.” 

"You are mad,” gasped Mrs. Chester. 

" You have been mad, to allow this conduct in your house- 
folly, frivolity, much that is bad going on under your very 
e^^es. Had your brother been a single man, it might have 
been deemed excusable by some : never b}’' me : but he had a 
fair young wife, and you deliberately set to work to injure her. 


MARY JUPP’S EXPLOSION. 


159 


You did, Penelope Chester : you knew quite well what you 
were doing : and to encourage ill by winking at it, is the same 
thing as committing it. I say nothing more to she 

added, turning upon Lady Ellis with ineffable scorn. You 
may remember certain words you said to me regarding Mr. 
Lake and his wife, tlie first after. lOon you came here ; I did 
not understand them then ; I do now ; and I know that, in 
that first hour of your meeting, you were laying your toils 
around him to gain his admiration and wean him from his 
wife. If yOu retain a spark of feeling, of conscience, the re- 
membrance of Clara Lake, when the grave shall have closed 
on her, will be as a sharp iron, ever eating into it.^^ 

Lady Ellis rose, her jet-black eyes flashing. Who are 
you, that you should dare thus insult me ? 

Mary Jupp dropped her tone to one of calmness — mocking- 
ly calm it was, considering the scorn that mingled with it. 
“I have told you who I am : an English gentlewoman amidst 
gentlewomen : and with such I should think you will never 
henceforth presume to consort.’^ 

Mr. Lake had made no further retort, good or bad. While 
they were speaking, he took out his watch, saw that he had 
time, too much of it, to catch the next train, and quitted the 
room. Mary Jupp was following. Up started Mrs. Chester. 

“If Clara is in the sad state you describe, Mary Jupp. I 
ought to go to her.^^ 

Mary Jupp turned short round and faced them. “ I do not 
pretend to any right of control over your actions ; but, were I 
you, I would at least allow my brother to be alone with his 
wife in her last hours. You have come between them enough, 
as it is, Mrs. Chester. ' The sight of you cannot be pleasant 
to her.^^ 

She quitted the room, condescending to give no farewell to 
either of those she left in it, and followed in the steps of Mr. 
Lake, who was already on his way to the station, buttoning 
his coat as he went, taking care not to catch him up. On the 
platform, as the train was dashing in he spoke to her. 

“ Your accusations have been harsh, Mary.^^ 

“ What has your conduct been she sharply retorted. “ I 
loved your wife, and I feel her unhappy fate as keenly as 
though it had fallen on one of my own sisters. The world 
may spare you ; it may flatter and caress you, for it is wonder- 
fully tender to these venial sins of conduct ; but you cannot 


160 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


recal to life her whom you vowed before God to love and to 
cherish.’’ 

Step in. The train is going.” 

Not into that carriage — with you. Others are in it, and 
I might be saying things that they would stare at. My 
temper is up to-day.” 

First class, miss?” cried an impatient porter. ^‘There’s 
only that there one first-class carriage on.” 

And Mary Jupp walked awaj^ ; opened the door of another, 
which was a third-class, and took her seat in it. 

Tlius they reached Katterle}". Mr. Lake came to the car- 
riage to assist her out, but she simply put his arm away. 
Her face looked awfully severe as the gaslights fell upon it. 

‘^One moment,” he said, arresting her as she was passing. 

do not know what turn your suspicions can have taken ; a 
very free one, as it seems to me. Let me assure you that you 
are* mistaken. On my word of honor as a man there has been 
nothing ; nothing wrong. In justice to Lady Ellis I am 
bound to say this.” 

Justice to Lady Ellis ! Don’t talk to me about justice to 
Lady Ellis,” was the young lady’s retort. Her temper, as 
she said, was up, that day. “ Think of justice to your wife, 
rather. You are either a fool or a knave, sir.” 

Thank j^ou. Miss Jupp.” 

Nothing wrong!” she repeated, returning to the charge. 

I don’t know what you mean. What do you call wrong ? 
You have been tied to that woman’s skirts these five months ; 
lavishing your money and your time upon her; and leaving 
your wife alone to die. If that’s not wit)ng, I should like to 
know what is.” 

He made no repl}’’ ; almost too confounded to do it. 

“ I don’t blame you, Eobert Lake, as much as I blame 
them,” she took occasion to say as they were parting. You 
are a vain, thoughtless, empty-headed fellow, made so, I 
believe, by your enforced idleness ; and they, those two women, 
are old and crafty. Mrs. Chester was serving her self-interest ; 
the other her unjustifiable woman’s vanity. You yielded 
yourself a willing prisoner to the birdlime spread under your 
feet, and now your folly has come home with interest. I saw 
your wife was dying of the pain, if you did not.” 

Without another word, whether of adieu or apology, she 
brushed past him up the street ; and Mr. Lake turned to his 


THE DREAM WORKED OUT. 


161 


home, something like a beaten dog that dare not lift his tail 
from between its legs. 


CHAPTEE XL 

THE DREAM WORKED OUT. 

Mrs. Lake was better. The bleeding was stopped, the 
doctor gone, and she seemed comfortable. There was less 
danger than Miss Jupp had supposed, for the blood-vessel 
which had broken proved to be only a small one on the chest 
— not the lungs. To her husband it appeared incomprehensi- 
ble that she should be in any danger at all : bis mind had 
never admitted the possibility of it. 

He was all alive to it now. As long as she lay in bed he 
scarcely left her chamber. To talk with her much was not 
allowed, but he sat there, holding her hand, looking into her 
eyes with the old love in his. What his reflections were, or 
bow great his self-reproaches, was best known to himself. 
When tliese men, essentially kind and tender by nature, have 
to indulge in such remorse, be assured it is not very light. 
He could not bring, himself to believe that any conduct of his 
had contributed to his wife’s illness j still less that he had 
caused it. That was a fliglit of fancj^ not eas}^ to understand ; 
but he saw now how ill she must have been all along, and 
bitterly regretted that be had left her so much alone. Eather 
than have wilfully ill-treated her, he would have forfeited his 
life. His love had come back to him, now that it w^as too late 
— it may be more aj^propriate to say his senses had come back 
to him. 

In a day or two she grew so much better that she was allow 
ed to leave her bed for a small sitting-room on the same floor, 
carried into it by him. Late in the afternoon, he left her 
comfortably lying back in the easy chair, and inclined to sleep. 
Taking his hat, he walked out. 

His errand was to the doctor. His wife seemed to assume 
that she should not recover; Miss Jupp and the servants the 
same ; for all he saw, she might be well in a week or tw’o : 

10 


162 


THE RED COERT FARM. 


and lie went to put the question. Dr. Marlow had said noth- 
ing particular to him of lier state, one way or the other, and 
he could not question him before liis wife. 

Dr. Marlow was at home, and came to him at once. The 
two families had been very intimate ; on familiar terms one 
with the other. Mr. Lake plunged into the matter at once, 
speaking of the danger other people seemed to apprehend, and 
of his own inability to see it. 

Is she, or is she not, in peril ? ” he asked. “ Tell me the 
plain truth.” 

The old man laid his hand upon the speaker’s shoulder. 

What if the truth should be painful ? Will you hear it — 
the whole of it ? ” 

I am come to hear it.” 

“ Then I can only tell jmu that she is in danger ; and I fear 
that a little time will see the end.” 

Very rapidl}^ beat his pulses as he listened. Depentant 
pulses. A whole lifetime of repentance seemed, in that 
moment, to be in every one of them. 

But what is killing her ? What is it ? ” 

“ The primary cause is of course that cold she caught at 
Guild. It laid hold of her system. Still, I think she might 
have rallied : many a time, since she came home, I have 
deemed her all but well again. You ought to know best. 
Master Bobert, but to me it appears as though she had some 
grievance on her mind, and that it has been working mischief. 
I hope you have been a good husband to her, as Joan says to 
Hodge,” added the doctor, turning from Mr. Lake to take a 
pinch of snuff. “ Your wife has possessed one of those highlj^- 
sensitive, rarely-refined temperaments, that when joined to a 
fragile body, an unkind blow would shatter. I once told you 
this.” 

He made no comment ; he was battling with his pain. Dr. 
Marlow continued. 

The body was a healthy body ; there was no inherent 
disease, as I have always believed, and I cannot see why it 
should not have recovered ; but the mind seemed to pull it 
back; two powers, one working against the other. Between 
them they have conquered, and will lay her low.” 

Do you call it consumption ? ” Mr. Lake jerked out. And 
really the words were jerked out, rather than fairly spoken. 

Decidedly not. More of a decline : a waste of the system.” 


THE DREAM WORKED OUT. 


163 


Those declines are cured sometimes/^ 

IsTot often : wlien thej fairly set in.’^ 

Oh, doctor/^ he cried, clasping the old man’s hand, and 
giving vent to some of the anguish that was rending him, 
try and save her ! Save her for my sake ! You don’t know 
the cause I have to ask it.” 

I wish I could — for both your sakes. She is. bej’^ond 
earthly aid.” 

They stood looking at each other. Dr. Marlow, willing if 
possible to soothe in a degree the blow, resumed. 

I suppose I must, after all, have been mistaken in her 
constitution. When consumption showed itself in her brother 
and he died of it, I watched her all the closer. But I could 
detect nothing wrong : though she was alwa^^s one of those 
blossoms that a sharp wind would blow away. The disease 
was there, we must assume, and I failed to detect it.” 

You say — you said but now — that it is not consumption,” 
returned Mr. Lake, speaking sharplj^ in his pain. 

Neither is it. But when unsoundness is inherent in the 
constitution it does not always show itself* in the same form. 
Sometimes it comes out in one shape, sometimes in another.” 

There was no more to be said ; nothing further to be learnt. 
Mr. Lake returned home with his burden of knowledge, 
wondering how much of this dread fiat Clara suspected, how 
much not. The shades of evening were on the room when he 
entered it, imparting to it a semi-gloom, but the ra3"s of the 
fire-light fell on his wife’s wasted face. Stirring the coals into 
a bright blaze, he sat down by her chair, and took her hand. 
Her wasted fingers entwined themselves fondl3^ with his. 

I know where you liave been, Bobert. And I guess for 
what purpose.” 

Ah. You are wise, m}^ little wife. I went out to get a 
breath of fresh air.” 

You have been to Dr. Marlow’s. Margaret Jupp called, 
and she said she saw 3mu turn into his house. You went to 
ask him whether I should get well. He told you No : for he 
knows I shall not. Was it not so ? ” 

She leaned a little forward to look at him. He suddenly 
clasped her to his breast with a gush of passionate tenderness, 
and his hot tears fell upon her face. 

Oh, my darling ! my darling ! ” 

It must be,” she softly whispered. There is no appeal 
against it now.” 


164 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Clara, if we are indeed to part, at least let perfect confi- 
dence be restored between ns,’’ he resumed, controlling his 
emotion with an effort. hat is the trouble that has been 

upon you ? ” 

‘‘ The trouble ? ” 

« Some of them are hinting at such a thing,” he said, think- 
ing of the doctor and of Miss Jupp. ‘'I must know from 
you what it is.” 

Need you ask ? ” 

‘‘Yes. For I cannot comprehend it. My darling, you 
must tell me.” 

“ If she had never come between us, I do not think I should 
have been ill now.” 

“ I cannot understand it,” he repeated, a wailing sound in 
his emphasized words. “ I have been foolish, thoughtless, 
wrong : though not to the extent you may possibly have im- 
agined. But surely, taking it at its worst, that was not cause 
sufficient to bring you to death.” 

“ Your love left me for another. It seemed to me — it seem- 
ed to me — more thtin I could bear.” 

Partly from the agitation the topic called up, partly that 
she was in hesitation how to frame her words, the pauses 
came. It was as if she would fain have said more. 

“ My love ? oh no. It was but a passing ” the word at 

his tongue’s end was “ fancy,” but he substituted another— 
“ folly. Clara ! do not give me more than my share of blame ; 
that will be heavy enough. Heaven knows. The old man says 
that the violent cold you caught at Guild, was the primary 
cause of decay : surely that cannot be charged upon me.” 

She was silent a few moments — but, as he had said, there 
ought to be full confidence between them now— and she had 
been longing to tell him the whole unreserved truth ; a long- 
ing that had grown into a sick yearning. 

“ I will tell you now how I caught that cold. Do you re- 
member the night ? ” 

“ Not particularly.” He was of a forgetful nature, and the 
events of the night had only been those of many another. 

“ DonH jmu remember it? When you were walking with 
— her — in the shrubbery in the raw tvyilight ” 

Mr. Lake slightly shook his head in the pause she made. 
Twilight shrubbery walks were lying in numbers on his con- 
science. 


THE DREAM WORKED ODT. 


165 


She complained of cold, and you went to get her shawl 
out of the summer-house, leaving her seated on the bench in 
front of the green alcove. She sang a song to herself : I 
think I could repeat its words now. You brought the shawl 
and folded it lovingly around her, and kissed her afterwards, 
and called her 

In great astonishment he raised his wife’s face to gaze into 
it. Where had she learnt that little episode ? Had she 
dreamt it ? He did not ask : he only stared at her. 

She bent down her head again to its resting-place, and folded 
her arm round him in token of forgiveness. And called her 
^ My dearest,^ I was standing there, Hobert, behind the 
bench. I saw and heard all.” 

Not a word spoke he. He hardly dared to accept the loving 
sign of pardon, or to pres^ lier to him. Had she glanced up 
she would have seen his face in a hot glow. These little 
private episodes may be very gratifying in the passing, but it 
is uncommonly disagreeable to find out that your wife has 
made a third at them. 

“ It was very thoughtless of me to run out from the heated 
room on that cold damp night without anything on,” she re- 
sumed hastily as if conscious of the feeling and wishing to 
cover it. “ But oh ! I was so unhappy — scarcely, I think, 
in my senses. I thought you had not returned from Guild ; 
Fanny came in and said you had been home a long while and 
were with hei\ An impulse took me that I would go and 
see : I never did such a thing in my life ; never, never, before 
or since : and I opened the glass doors and went out. I was 
half way down the shrubbery when I heard you coming into 
it from a cross walk, and I darted into the green alcove, and 
stood back to hide myself ; not to spy upon you.” 

She paused, but was not interrupted. Mrs. Lake began to 
hurry over her tale. 

So you see that, in a measure, she was the cause of the 
cold which struck to me. And then I was laid up ; and many 
a time when you deemed I should fancy you were out shooting, 
or had gone to Guild, or something or other, you were with 
her. I knew it all. And since we came home, you have been 
ever restless to go to her — leaving me alone — even on Christ- 
mas-day.” 

Ay ; even on Chri&tmas-day. He almost gnashed his teeth, 
in his self-condemnation. She, with her impassioned and 


166 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


entire love for him, with her rare and peculiar temperament 
that, as the doctor had observed, a rude blow would destroy ! 
The misery of mind reacting upon a wasted frame ! Ho no 
longer wondered why she was dying. 

“ Why could you not speak out and tell me this ? 

But that the world seems to have nearly passed away from 
me, and that earthl}^ passions — pride, self-reticence, shame, I 
mean the shame of betraying one’s dearest feelings, are over — 
I could not tell you now.” 

‘•But don’t you see the bed of remorse you have made for 
me ? Had I suspected the one quarter of what you tell me 
you felt, the woman might have gone to the uttermost ends of 
the earth, for me. I wish you had spoken.” 

“ It might not have prevented it. My belief is that it 
would not. It was to be.’^ 

Mr. Lake looked at her. 

“ You remember the dream : how it shadowed forth that I 
was to meet, in some way, my death through going to Mrs. 
Chester’s.” 

“ Child ! Can you still dwell upon that dream ? ” 

“ Yes. And so will you when the hearse comes here to 
take me away. Never was a dream more completely worked 
out. Not quite yet : it will be shortly. I have something 
else to tell you ; about it and her.” 

Mr. Lake passed his hand across his brow. It seemed to 
him that he had heard enough already. 

“ The very first moment, when I met Lady Ellis at your 
sister’s, her eyes puzzled me : those strange, jet-black eyes. I 
could not think where I had seen them. They seemed to be 
familiar to my memory, and I thought and thought in vain, 
even when the weeks went on. On this same night that we 
are speaking of, I alarmed you by my looks. Mrs. Chester 
happened to look at me as I 'sat by the fire ; she called out ; 
and you, who were at chess with — with her, came up. You 
all came round me. I was shaking, and my cheeks were 
scarlet, somebody exclaimed : I believe you thought I was 
seized with an ague fit. Bobert, I was shaking with fear, 
with undefined dread : for an instant before, as I sat looking 
at her eyes, it fiashed into my mind whose eyes they were.” 

“ Well, whose ? ” he asked, for she paused. 

“ They were those of the man who drove the hearse in my 
dream,” she whispered in an awe-struck tone. “ The very same. 


THE DREAM WORKED OUT. 


167 


You must recollect my describing them to you wlien I awoke : 
^strangely black eyes, the blackest eyes I ever saw,^ thongli of 
bis face I retained no impression. It was singular it should 
have struck upon me then, when I had been for weeks trying 
unsuccessfully to get the thread of the mystery.^^ 

Oh, Clara, my darling, these superstitious feelings are very 
sad ! ” he remonstrated. “ You ought not to indulge them.” 

“Will you tell me how I could have avoided them? It 
was not my fault that the dream came to me : or that the eyes 
of the driver were her eyes : or that my death had been in- 
duced through going to Mrs. Chester’s. Both you and Mrs. 
Chester seemed to help me on to it in my dream : and as surely 
as the man appeared to drive me to tlie grave in the hearse, so 
has she driven me to it in reality. I wrote out the dream in 
full at the time, and you will find the paper in my desk. 
Bead it over when I am gone, and reflect how completely it 
has been fulfilled.” 

He was silent. A nasty feeling of superstition was begin- 
ning to creep over himself. 

“Will you let me ask you something?” she whispered, 
presently. 

He bent his tearful face down upon hers. “ Ask me any- 
thing.” 

“ When — I — am — no longer here, shall you marry her ?” 

Bobert Lake darted up with a tremendous word, almost 
flinging his wife’s face from him. His anger bubbled over for 
a few moments : not at his wife’s (question, but at the idea it 
suggested. Bor remorse was very strong upon him then ; the 
image of Lady Ellis in consequence distasteful. 

“ Marry her ! Her ! I would rather take a pistol, and shoot 
myself through the heart — and — sin that it implies — I assert 
it before my Maker.” 

Clara gave utterance to a faint sigh of relief, and unclasped 
her arms. “ Then you do not love her as you have loved 
me ? 

He flung himself on his knees before her, and sobbed aloud 
in his repentant anguish. She leaned over him endearingly, 
stroking his face and his hair. 

“ I only wanted to know that, The misery is over now, 
darling. Bor the little while we have to be together, let us be 
as happ3^ as we used to be.” 

Emotion shook him tp the very centre as he listened. 


168 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


Scarcely twice in a life time can a man give wrj to such. For 
tlie little while they had to be togetlier! Ay. As Mary Jupp 
had said, lie could not recall her back to life : he could not 
keep her here to make reparation. 

Mrs. Lake lay back in her chair exhausted. Her husband 
stood by the mantel -piece gazing at her with his yearning eyes 
hot and feverish after their tears. Silence had succeeded to 
the interview of agitation : these strong emotional storms 
always bring their reaction. 

A knock at the room door, followed by the entrance of 
Elizabeth. She c-ame to say that Mrs. Chester was below, 
asking if she might come up. A moment’s pause, and Mrs. 
Lake answered The impulse to deny it had been upon 

her, but she wished to be at peace with all the world. iNfr. 
Lake, less forgiving than his wife, did not care to meet Mrs. 
Chester, and quitted the room to avoid her. In his propensity 
to blame somebody else for the past as well as himself, he felt 
very much inclined to curse Mrs. Chester. 

But she had been very quick, and encountered him outside 
the door, inquiring after his wife in a whisper. Mr. Lake 
muttered some unintelligible answer, and passed on. 

There’s a friend in the drawing-room waiting to see you, 
Bobert,’’ she 'called after him. 

How, strange though it may seem, the thought of who the 
“ friend ” really was, did not occur to Mr. Lake. After the 
explosion on Christmas-day, brought about by Miss Jupp, he 
had never supposed that L^ldy Ellis would show herself at his 
house. He went downstairs mechanically, expecting to see 
nobody in particular; some acquaintance might have called. 
In another moment he stood face to face with her — Angeline 
Ellis. The exceeding unfitness of her visit, the bad taste 
which it displayed after that public explosion, struck him with 
dismay. Perhaps the recent explanation with his wife, their 
reconciliation, and his own bitter repentance helped the feel- 
ing. He bit his angrj^ lips. 

She extended to him her delicately-gloved hand, lavender, 
sewn with black, and melted into her sweetest smile. But the 
smiles had lost their power. He glanced at her coal-black 
e^^es, as they flashed in the rays of the lamp, remembered the 
eyes of his wife’s dream, and — shuddered. 

You have become a stranger to Guild,” she said. Has 
that mad woman, Mary Jupp, persuaded you that you will be 
poisoned if j'ovi come ? ” 


THE DREAM WORKED OUT. 


169 


He did not choose to see her proffered hand. I can no 
longer spare time from my wife, Lady Ellis : I have spared 
too much from her.” 

The resentful tone struck her with wmnder ; the cold man- 
ner chilled her unpleasantly : but she smiled yet. 

Is it really true that your wife is so very ill ? ” she asked. 

The maid saj^s so. We had news that she was better, 
recovering very fast; and of course treated Miss Jupp’s asser- 
tion for wdiat it was worth — as we did the rest she said.” 

Had he been covered with quills like a porcupine, everj^ one 
of them would have bristled up on end in defence of his wife. 
Surely her ladyship should have exercised better judgment 
an’ she wished to win him back to her. 

Never again ! Never again ! 

She is dying,” he hoarsely answ^ered ; dying through 
our folly. I beg your pardon, my lady,” he added, speaking 
the twm last words in, as it struck her, the refinement of 
mockery, “ it had been better perhaps that I had said my 
folly.” 

Folly ? Oh ! ” 

It has been a folly that will entail upon me a lifetime of 
repentance. Were my whole days to be spent in striving to 
work it off, as w^e w^ork off a debt, they could not make atone- 
ment. There are follies that leave their results behind them 
— a heavy burthen to be borne afterwards throughout life. 
Take a seat, I beg, wliile you w^ait for Mrs. Chester.” 

He quitted the room ; and she compressed her thin lips, 
which had turned white, for she fully understood him to imply 
that he had quitted herself and the folly” for ever. Earely 
had her ears heard. such truths spoken, and they set on to glow 
with resentment. She saw Mr. Lake w^alk out at the garden 
gate and up the road, all to avoid her. Why ? She had 
committed no wrong — as she counted wu’ong, as the wmrld 
counts it: never a wmman less likely to commit that than 
Lady Ellis. She had but amused herself, and he the same ; 
and she really could not understand wliy Mrs. Lake should 
make a fuss over it. 

, Mrs. Chester, meanwliile, seated with Clara, was in her 
most amiable mood. That the episode of Christmas-day had 
taken her aback far more than it had taken Lady Ellis, was 
indisputable ; but she was one of those easy-going women 
who never retain unpleasant impressions long. Besides, she 


170 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


had her way to make in the world. Before Mr. Lake had left 
her house many minutes, Miss Jupp in his wake, she had 
recovered her equanimity, and was laughing over the matter 
with my lady, assuring iier that Mary J upp was taken with 
these fits sometimes, and tried to set the world to-rights— the 
result of bile. Anything rather than that Lady Ellis should 
quit her now, in the depth of winter. Thej^ had come over 
to-day, my lady fully understanding and tacitly falling into 
her plans, hoping to patch up a reconciliation. He was but 
a ligbt-headed fellow at best— turned about any way, as the 
wind turns a feather, mentally argued Mrs. Chester 5 and he 
was safe not to have said anything to his wife. 

You are looking so very much better than I expected, dear 
Clara. All 3mu want is complete rest, with good nursing ; as 
I remarked to Anna Chester the day after Christmas-day, 
when she came over to inquire about you. I was glad you saw 
her. I couldn’t come myself— I had one of my wretched sick- 
headaches.^^ 

She spoke quickly, running one sentence into another. 
Clara sat back in her chair, meek, quiet, calm, a smile of peace 

upon her face. • i i.t, * 

“ I should not have asked your husband to dine with us that 
day without you,” spoke Mrs. Chester, deliberating how to 
heal breaches — “ we should never have cared to see him at any 
time unaccompanied by you, but that you were not able to 
come.^^ 

Mrs. Lake made no reply. 

''Clara, I must speak out. There’s poor Lady Ellis down- 
stairs wanting so see you. She says she has talked and 
laughed with Mr. Lake and is terribly afraid now that you 
might not have liked it. She meant nothing. He is ten years 
younger than she is. Goodness me, child ! you could never 
have thought ill of it. Surely you will see her ? ” 

" I could not talk with her about — about the past, mur- 
mured poor Clara, the hectic cheeks becoming crimson. 

" Good gracious me ! who said anything ot talking about it 
with her ? ” exclaimed Mrs. Chester. " My dear Clara, she’d 
not speak of it for the world. She has not spoken of it to 
me ; but I can see what she feels. She’s so afraid you should 
reproach her in your heart ; she would so like to be reconciled 
in spirit. Oh ! my dear, there’s nothing like peace. 

With the peace on her own spirit ; with the fresh love of her 


THE DREAM WORKED OUT. 


171 


husband in her heart ; with the consciousness that she should 
soon be with Him who has enjoined love and peace on earth 
if we would inherit Heaven, Clara did not hesitate: Lady 
Ellis could do her no harm with her husband now : and a 
sudden wish for at least a tacit proof of the full forgiveness 
she accorded, arose within her. But she did not speak im- 
mediately ; and Mrs. Chester was impatient. 

You would not bear malice, Clara ? 

I will see Lady Ellis. As to bearing malice, if you only 
knew how different it is ! All that kind of feeling has passed 
away from me. I wish you would note what I say now, Mrs. 
Chester, and — and repeat it, should you think it might be ac- 
ceptable after I am dead. Should anybody in the world have 
injured me, intentionally or unintentionally, I give them my 
free and full forgiveness, as I hope to be myself forgiven. I 
trust we shall meet in heaven; you, and I, and Lady Ellis, 
and all the world, and live together in happy bliss for ever. 
There’s a great joy upon me when I say this.” 

The words were a little different from any anticipated by 
Mrs. Chester. She rubbed her face with her handkerchief 
and stared ; and her tone, as she rejoined, partook in a degree 
of the solemnity of that other one. 

After you are dead, Clara ! You are not surely going to 
die?” ^ - 

Mrs. Lake did not answer in words. She looked full at 
Mrs. Chester with her clear brown eyes, and the wan face from 
which the hectic was fading. 

“ Good patience me ! ” thought that lady, I hope I shan’t 
dream of her as she looks now.” 

Elizabeth entered with a cup of tea on a waiter. 

^^Here comes my tea,” said Clara. “Would you like 
some ? ” 

“ Indeed I should : my mouth is quite parched. And poor 
Lady Ellis ? You will let her drink one, too, here with us, 
Clara ? It will be the seal of peace.” 

“ Bring two cups of tea and some bread and butter,” said 
Clara to the maid in a low tone. Certainly she had not inten- 
ded to invite the lady down stairs to tea with her ; but Mrs. 
Chester had put it in a point of view scarcely rejectable. 

How Mrs. Chester, crafty and clever, had been drawing 
largely upon her own active imagination. It had never oc- 
curred to Lady Ellis to wish for the kiss of peace, or for any 


172 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


token ,of reconciliation whatsoever. Therefore when Mrs. 
Chester brought her up and introduced her to the room, the 
two — her ladyship and the dying woman — were inwardly at 
cross purposes. 

Nothing of which was betrayed, or likely to be. Lady 
Ellis’s delicately-gloved hand met that attenuated one in a 
moment’s greeting, and she sat down with calm composure. 
A few remarks passed upon indifferent topics between the 
three, and Elizabeth came in with the tea. The next moment 
another visitor appeared on the scene — Mary Jupp, shown in 
by Mr. Lake. To describe their faces of astonishment at 
seeing the ladies there, would take the pen of a great artist ii\ 
words. Not seeing Lady Ellis downstairs, he thought they 
had left. Miss Jupp stood with a stony stare ; and her com- 
panion bit his annoyed lips. 

^^Come in, Mary ; come in.” 

Mrs. Lake’s invitation bore a hurried pleading sound to 
Miss Jupp’s ear, as if she had been uneasy in her company, 
and welcomed the relief. But for that, the strong-minded 
lady had turned away again without leaving behind her so 
much as a word. She came forward and sat down. 

Elizabeth shall bring you some tea.” 

“Tea for me!” cried Miss Jupp, bluntly. “I couldn’t 
drink a drop. It would choke me.” 

“ Is your throat bad, Mary J upp ? ” asked Mrs. Chester. 

“ No ; only my temper.” 

A frightened look in Clara’s eyes, a pleading gaze that 
went right into Mary Jupp’s. The young lady, doing violence 
•to her inclinations, shut up her mouth resolutely, and folded 
her hands upon her lap, and spoke not another word, good, 
bad, or indifferent. 

The curious meeting came to an end, brought to a summary 
close b}^ Mrs. Chester. That lady, not altogether liking the 
aspect of affairs, and privately wishing Miss Jupp at the anti- 
podes, thought it good to take herself away, and leave, so to 
say, well alone. Lady Ellis and Clara Lake shook hands for 
the last time in life. 

“ I wish you well,” Clara whispered. 

“ Thanks,” airily answered my lady. 

Mr. Lake, in the very commonest politeness, went down 
with them. As they stood in the garden Mrs. Chester went 
back to get her muff, and they waited for her. 

“ Are you reconciled to me, Mr. Lake ? ” asked Lady Ellis. 


COASTDOWN. 


173 


I wish to hegyour pardon for aught I may have said that * 
was unwarrantable/^ he rejoined. I liad no right to reproach 
you wlien the fault of the past was mine.’^ 

Mrs. Chester came forth, and he held the gate open for 
them. But my lad}^ noticed that he did not choose to see her 
hand when she held it out. 

My lady gave a little toss to her head. If this was to be 
the end of platonic friendships, keep her from them in future. 

And Bobert Lake, a whole world of self-condemning bitter- 
ness in his face, leaned on the gate, and looked after them. 


CHAPTER XIL 

COASTDOWN. 

Rushing- through the streets of London, as if he were 
rushing for his life, went a gentleman in deep mourning. It 
was Robert Hunter. Very soon after we last saw her, he had 
followed the hearse that conveyed his wife to her long home in 
Katterley churchyard. 

Putting aside his grief, his regret, his bitter repentance, her 
death made every difference to him. Had there been a child, 
the house and the income would have remained his ; being 
none, it all went from him. Of his own money but little 
remained : he had been extravagant during the brief period 
when he was Lieutenant Hunter, had spent right and left. 
One does not do these things without having to pay for it. 
Mrs. Chester, going over to offer a condoling visit, heard this, 
and spoke out her opinion with her usual want of reserve. 
She looked upon him as a man lost. Xo,’’ said he, I am 
saved ! I shall go to work now.” Hoping to redeenl for- 
tune ? ” she rejoined. Yes,” he said, and something else 
besides.” 

Heavily lay the shadow of the past upon Robert Hunter. 
The drooping form of his loving and neglected wife, bright 
with hope once, mouldering in her grave now, was in his mind 
always ; the years that he had wasted in frivolity, the money 
he had recklessly spent. Oh, the simpleton he was ! — as he 


174 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


thought now, looking back in his repentance. When he had 
become master of a good profession, why did lie abandon it be- 
cause a little money was left him ? To become a gentleman 
amongst gentlemen, forsooth ; to put away the soiling of his 
hands; to live a life of vanity and indolence. Heaven had 
recompensed him in its own just way: whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he reap. His soldiership was gone; his 
\\dfe was gone ; money, the greater portion of it, was gone. 
Nothing left to him but remembrance, and the ever-present, 
bitter sense of his folly. He was beginning life anew : he 
must go back to the bottom of the tree of his engineering 
profession, lower than where he had left off: he would so begin 
it and take up his work daily, and untiringly persevere in it, 
so as — Heaven helping him — to atone for the past. Not all ' 
the past. The wasted years were gone for ever ; the gentle 
wife, whom he had surely helped to send to the grave, could 
not be recalled to earth. Not so much on his wife were his 
musings bent as on the career of work lying before him. He 
had so grieved for her in the days before and immediately 
after her death, that it seemed as though the sorrow had, in a 
degree, spent itself, and reaction set in. If his handicraft’s 
best skill, indifference to privation, unflagging industry, could 
redeem the past idleness, he would surely redeem that. Not 
in a pecuniary point of view, it was not of that he thought, 
but the far graver one of wasted life. His eyes were opening 
a little ; he saw how offensive on High must be a life of mere 
idle indulgence ; a waste of that precious time, short at the 
best, bestowed upon him to use. This, this was what he had 
resolved to atone for: Heaven helping him, he once more 
aspirated in the sad but resolute earnestness of his heart. 

Making an end of his affairs at Katterley, he came to Lon- 
don, presented himself at the office of the firm where he was 
formerly employed, and said he had come to ask for work. 
They remembered the clever, active, industrious young man, 
and tvere glad to have him again. And Eobert Hunter — ■ 
dropping his easy life, just as he dropped the name he had 
borne in it — entered on his career of toil and usefulness. 

The spring was growing late when his employers intimated 
to him tliat he was going to be sent to Spain, to superintend 
some work there. Anywhere, he answered ; he was quite 
ready, let them send him where they would. 

On this morning that we see him splashing through the 


COASTDOWN. 


175 


mud of London improvised by the water carts, he was busy 
making liis preparations for departure, and was on his svay to 
call on Professor Macpherson. He wanted some information 
in regard to the locality for winch he was bound, and thought 
the professor could supply it. The previous night, sitting 
alone in his lodgings, he had been surprised, and rather an- 
noyed, by the appearance of Mrs. Chester. That lady was in 
town on her own business, and found him out. Incautiously 
he let slip that he was going on the morrow to Dr. Macpher- 
son’s. She seized upon the occasion to make a visit also. 

At this very moment Mrs. Chester was en route also. 
Pushing her way along, inquiring her road perpetually, 
getting into all sorts of odd nooks and turnings, she at length 
emerged on the more open squares of Bloomsbury, and there 
she saw her brother, who had been calling at places on his 
way, in front of her. 

“ You might have waited for me, Pobert, I think. 

did wait twenty minutes. I came on then. My time is 
not my own, you know, Penelope.” 

Have you seen anything of Lady Ellis since you came to 
London ? ” inquired Mrs. Chester, as they walked on together. 

‘^JSTo, I should not be likely to see her.” 

She is stajnng in London ; she came to it direct when she 
left me. At least, she was staying here, but in a letter I had 
from her she said she thought of going on a visit to Coast- 
down. Her plans ” 

Excuse me, Penelope, I donT care to hear of Lady Ellis’s 
plans.” 

“ You have grown quite a bear, Kobert 1 That’s what 
work’s doing for you.” 

He laughed pleasantly. I think it is hurry that is doing 
it for me this morning. I feel as if I had no time for any- 
thing. Humber fifteen. Here we are ! ” 

It was a commodious house, this one in Bloomsbury, steps 
leading up to the entrance. He sent in his card, “Mr. Pobert 
Hunter,” and the}^ were admitted. 

“Lawk a’ mercy! Is it you?” exclaimed Mrs. Macpher- 
son, looking first at the card and then at its owner, as they 
were shown into a handsome room, and the professor’s lady, 
in sky-blue silk, and a scarlet Garibaldi body elaborately 
braided with black, advanced to receive them. She did not 
wear the bird-of-paradise feather, but she wore something 


176 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


equivalent to it : some people might call it a cap and some a 
turban, the front ornament of which, perching on the fore- 
head, was an artificial bird, with shining wings of green and 
gold. 

Mrs. Macpherson took a hand of each, shaking them 
heartily. “ And so you have put away your name ? she 
said. 

Strictly speaking, it never was my name,” he answered. 

It was my wife’s. I had to assume it with her property, but 
when the property left me again, I thought it time to drop the 
name.” 

The professor came forward in his threadbare coat, with (it 
must be owned) a great stream of some sticky red liquid down 
the front of it, for thej^ had fetched him from his experiment- 
ing laboratory. But his smile was bright, his welcome genial. 
Mrs. Macpherson, whose first thoughts were always of hospi- 
tality, ordered luncheon to be got ready. Robert Hunter, sit- 
ting down between them, quietly told them he had become a 
working man again, and where he was going, and what to do. 
Mrs. Macpherson heard him with a world of sympathy. 

“ It’s just one o’ them crosses in life that come to a man^T- of 
us,” remarked she. Play first and work afterwards ! it’s out 
o’ the order of things. But take heart. You’ve got your 
youth yet, and you’ll grow reconciled.” 

If you only knew how glad I am to be at work again ! ” 
he said, a faint light of earnestness crossing his face. My 
years of idleness follow me as a reproach — as a waste of life.” 

But for a steady attention to my work and studies, I 
should never have been able to contribute m}^ poor mite to 
further the cause of science,” said the professor, meekly, speak- 
ing it as an encouragement to Robert Hunter. 

If he hadn’t stuck at it late and early — burning the 
candle at both ends, as ’twere — he’d not have had his ologies 
at his fingers’ tips,” pursued Mrs. Macpherson, who often 
deemed it necessary to explain more lucidly her husband’s 
meaning. 

‘‘ And so you are about to migrate to Spain ? ” said the pro- 
fessor. “ You ” 

He says he’s going off to it bj^ rail,” interposed Mrs. Mac- 
pherson. What are the people there ? Blacks ? ” 

“ No, no, Betsy ; they are white, as we are.” 

knew a Spanish man once, prefessor, and he was olive 
brown.” 


COASTDOWN. 


177 


^^They are dark from the effects of the sun. I thought you 
alluded to the race. The radiation of heat there is exces- 
sive ; and ’’ 

“ Til at is, it’s burning hot in the place/’ corrected Mrs. 
Macpherson. I wish you joy of it, Mr. Hunter. You’ll 
catch it full, a-laying down of your lines of rail.” 

I think you have been in Spain ? ” observed Mr. Hunter 
to the doctor. 

I once stayed some months there. What do you say ? — 
that you want some information that you think I can supply? 
I hope I can. What is it? Please to step into my room.” 

The professor passed out of the door by which he entered, 
Mr. Hunter following him. A short passage, and then they 
were in the square back room consecrated to the professor and 
his pursuits. It was not a museum, it was not a laboratory, it 
was not a library, or an aviary of stuffed birds, or an astro- 
nomical observatory : but it was something of all. Specimens 
of earth, of rock, of flowers, of plants, of weeds, of antiquarian 
walls ; of animals, birds, fish, insects ; books in cases, owls in 
cages ; and a vast many more odd things too numerous to 
mention. Mrs. Macpherson thought it well to follow them. 

Law ! ” said she to Mrs. Chester, “ did living mortal ever 
see the like o’ the place ? ” 

What a confused mass of things it is ! ” was the answer, 
as Mrs. Chester's eyes went roving around in curiosity. 

He says it isn’t. He has the face to tell me everything is 
in its place, and he could find it in the dark. The great beast 
there with its round ej^es, is a owl that some of ’em caught and 
killed when they went out moralizing into Herefordshire.” 

“ Hot moralizing, Betsy. One of the excursions of the 
Geological Societ}" ” 

It’s all the same,” interrupted Mrs. Macpherson ; and the 
professor meekly turned to Mr. Hunter and continued an 
explanation he was giving him, a sort of earthenware pipe in 
his hand. The ladies drew near. 

“You perceive, Mr. Hunter, tliere is a small aperture for the 
passing in of the atmospheric air ? ” 

“ That is, there’s a hole where the wind goes out,” explained 
the professor’s wife. 

“ B}’- these means, taking the precaution I have previously 
shown you, the pressure on the valve may be increased to 

almost any given extent ! As a natural consequence ” 

11 


178 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Oh, bother consequences ! ” cried Mrs. Macpherson ; I’m 
sure young Robert Hunter don’t care to waste his time with 
that rubbish, when there’s cold beef and pickled salmon 
waiting,” 

“Just two minutes, Betsy, and Mr. Hunter shall be with 
you. Perhaps you and Mrs. Chester will oblige us by going 
on.” 

“ Hot if I know it,” said the lady, resolutely, “ I’ve had ex- 
perience of your ^ two minutes ’ before to-day, prefessor, and 
seen ’em swell into two mortal hours. Come ! finish what 
you’ve got to say to him, and well all go together.” 

Dr. Macpherson continued his explanations in a low voice, 
possibly to avoid more interruptions. Five minutes or so, and 
they moved from the table, the doctor still talking in answer 
to a question. 

“ Hot yet. I grieve to say we have not any certain clue to 
it, and opinions are much divided among us. It needs these 
checks to remind us of our finite nature, Mr. Hunter. So far 
shalt thou go, but no farther. That is a law of the Divine 
Creator, and we cannot break it.” 

Robert Hunter smiled. “ The strangest thing of all is to 
hear one of you learned men acknowledge as much. The 
philosopher’s stone ; perpetual motion ; the advancing and re- 
ceding tides — do you not live in expectation of making the 
secret of these marvels yours ? ” 

Professor Macpherson shook his head. “ If we were per- 
mitted: but we never shall be. If. That word lias been the 
arresting point of man in the past ages, as it will be in the 
future. Archimedes said he could move the world, you know, 
if he had but an outward spot to rest the fulcrum of his lever 
on.” 

“It’s a lucky thing for us that Archimy didn’t,” was the 
comment of Mrs. Macpherson. “It wouldn’t be pleasant to 
be swayed about promiscous, the earth tossing like a ship at 
sea.” 

Robert Hunter declined the luncheon ; he had many things 
to do still, and his time in England was growing very short; 
so he said adieu to them both then, and to his sister. 

“How remember, Robert Hunter,” said Mrs. Macpherson, 
taking both his hands, “ when you visit England temporary, 
and want a friendly bed to put yourself into, come to us. 
Me and the prefessor took to you when we first saw you at 


COASTDOWN. 


179 


Guild. You remember that night/^ she added, turning to 
Mrs. Chester: we come up in a carriage and pair; I wore 
my orange brocade and my bird-o’ -paradise ; and there was a 
Lady Somebody there, one o’ those folks that put on airs and 
graces ; which isn’t pretty in a my lady, any more than it is in 
a missis. You took our fancies, Mr. Hunter — though it does 
seem odd to be calling you that, and not Lake — and we’ll look 
upon it as a favor if you’ll come to us sometimes. The pre- 
fessor knows we shall, but he’s never cute at compliments. 
He was born without gumption.” 

The professor’s lingering shake of the hand, the welcoming 
look in his kindly eyes, said at least as much as his wife’s 
words ; and Robert Hunter went forth, knowing that they 
wished to be his friends. 

So they sat down to their luncheon and he departed ; and 
the same night went forth on his travels. 

Goastdown lay low in the light of the morning sun. The 
skies were clear, the rippling sea was gay with its fishing 
boats. Spring had been very late that year, but this was a 
day warm and bright. The birds were singing, the lamb i 
were sporting in the fields, the hedges were bursting into buds 
of green. 

Swinging through the gate of the Red Court Farm, hav- 
ing been making a call there to fetch a newspaper, came Cap- 
tain Copp : a sailor with a wooden leg, a pea jacket, and a 
black glazed hat. Captain Copp had been a merchant captain 
of the better class, as his father was before him. After his 
misfortune — the loss of his leg in an encounter with pirates — 
he gave up the sea, and settled at Goastdown on his small but 
sufficient income. • 

The captain’s womenkind — as he was in the habit of calling 
the inmates of his house — -consisted of his wife and a maid 
servant. The former was meek, yielding, gentle as those 
gentle lambs in the field ; the latter, Sarah Ford, worth her 
weight in gold for honest capability, liked to manage the cap- 
tain and the world on occasions. There were encounters 
between them. He was apt to call her a she-pirate and other 
affectionate names. She openly avowed her disbelief in his 
marvellous reminiscences, especially one that was a standing 
story with him concerning a sea-serpent that he saw with his 
own eyes in the Pacific Ocean. He had also seen a mermaid. 


180 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Like many anotlier sailor, the captain was a simple-minded 
man in land affairs, only great at sea and its surroundings ; 
with implicit faith in all its marvels. 

On occasions the captain’s mother honored him with a visit ; 
a resolute, well-to-do lady, who used to voyage with her hus- 
band, and had now settled in Liverpool. When she came 
she ruled the house and the captain, for she thought him 
(forty, now) and his wife little better than children yet. In 
solid sense, if you believed herself, nobody could approach her. 

Captain Copp came forth from his call at the Led Court 
Farm, letting the gate swing behind him, and stumped along 
quickly, his stout stick and his wooden leg keeping time on 
the ground. The captain’s face was beaming with satisfac- 
tion, for he had contrived to lay hold of young Cyril Thorny- 
croft, and recount to him (for the fiftieth tiifie) the whole 
story of the sea-serpent from beginning to end. He was a 
short, wiry man, witli the broad round shoulders of a sailor. 
Tlie road branched off before him two waj^s, like an old 
fashioned fork ; the way on the right led direct to the 
village and the common beach ; the way on the left to his 
home. 

The captain halted. Sociably inclined, he w'as rather fond 
of taking himself to the Mermaid ; that noted public house 
where the sailors and tlie coast-guard men congregated to 
watch the omnibus come in from Jutpoint. It must be getting 
near to the time of its arrival, half-past eleven, and the cap- 
tain’s leg moved a step forward in the direction ; on the other 
hand he wanted to say a word to that she-serpent Sarah (with 
whom he had enjo3^ed an encounter before coming out) about 
the dinner. The striking of the clock decided him, and he bore 
on for home, past tfte churchj^ard. Crossing part of the heath 
he came to the houses, red brick, detached, cheerful, his own 
being the third. At the window of the first sat an old lady. 
Captain Copp went through the little gate and put his face 
without ceremonj^ against the pane, close to Mrs. Connaught’s. 

‘‘ How’s the master this morning ? ” he called out through 
the glass. 

She answered by drawing aside and pointing to the fire. 
An asthmatical old gentleman, just recovering from a fit of 
the gout, sat tliere in a white cotton nigjitcap and dressing- 
gown made of yellow flannel. 

He’s come down for the first time. Captain Copp. He 
looks brave this morning,” was Mrs. Connaught’s ansv-er. 


COASTDOWN. 


181 


^^Glad to see ye, comrade ; Til come in later/’ cried the 
captain through the window, flourishing his stick in token of 
congratulation. And old Mr. Conuauglit, who had not heard 
a word, nodded the tassel of the white cap by way of answer. 

In the parlor at home, when Captain Copp entered it, sat 
his wife at work, a faded lady with a thin and fair face. 
Taking out the newspaper he had brought, he began to 
open it. 

Did you see the justice, Sam ? ” asked his wife in her 
gentle, loving tones. 

No, he v/as out. I only saw Cyril. There’ll be a fine 
row when he comes home. Mary Anne has run away.” 

Mrs. Copp dropped her work. “ E-un away ! oh, Sam ! 
Eun away from where ? ” 

From where ? — why, from school,” said the choleric cap- 
tain, who was just as hot as his wife was calm. She came 
bursting in upon them thi§ morning at breakfast, having run 
home all the eight miles. And she says she won’t go back.” 

Mrs. Samuel Copp, who had never in her life presumed to 
take a walk without express permission given for it, lifted her 
hands in dismay. “ I feared she would never stay at school ; 
I feared she would not.” 

Old Connaught is downstairs to-day, Amy,” observed the 
captain to her after a long interval of silence, as he turned 
his paper. 

“I am glad of that. He suffers sadl}^, poor man.” 

‘^Well, he’s getting old, you see; and he’s one that has 
coddled himself all his life, which doesn’t answer. I say ! 
who’s this ? ” 

A vision of something bright had flashed in at the little 
garden gate, on its way to the door. Mrs. Copp started up, 
saying that it was Mary Anne Thorn ycroft. 

“ Not a bit of it,” said the captain. Mary Anne Thorny- 
croft would come right in and not stand knocking at the door 
like a simpleton.” 

The knocking was very loud and decisive, such as, one is apt 
to fancy in a simple country place, must herald the approach 
of a visitor of consequence. Sarah appeared showing in the 
stranger. 

Lady Ellis, ma’am,” she said to her mistress. 

A dress of rich black silk, a handsome India shawl, a girlish 
straw bonnet, with a great deal of bright mauve ribbon about 


182 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


it, a white veil, and delicate lavender gloves. My lady had 
got up herself well for her journey ; stylisli, but not too fine to 
travel. She had discarded her mourning, but it was con- 
venient to wear her black silks. The captain and his wife 
rose. 

Yes, it was Lady Ellis. But she had mistaken the direc- 
tion given her, and had come to Captain Copp’s instead of 
Mrs. Connaught’s. When the explanation came, the gallant 
captain offered to take her in. 

“ Old Connaught is better to-day,” observed he, volunteer- 
ing the information. ^‘He’s down stairs in a nightcap and 
flannel gown.” 

Another minute, and Lady Ellis had the opportunity of 
making acquaintance with the articles of attire mentioned, 
and the old gentleman they adorned. Captain Copp, with his 
nautical disregard to ceremony, went into his neighbors house 
as usual, without knocking, opened \he sitting-room door, and 
sent the visitor in. Mrs. Connaught was not there, and he 
went to the kitchen in search of her. Tliey were primitive- 
mannered, these worthy people of Coastdown, entering each 
others’ kitchens or parlors at Avill. 

Mr. Connaught, very excessivelj^ taken aback at the unex- 
pected apparition, did nothing but look up with a stolid stare, 
as unable mentally to comprehend what the lady did there, 
and who she might be, as he was physically to rise and receive 
her. Lady Ellis lost her ready suavity for a moment, struck 
out of it by the curious old figure before her. 

Mrs. Connaught was preparing some dainty little dish for 
her husband ; sick people have fancies, and he liked her cook- 
ing better than the cook’s. She heard the wooden leg coming 
along the passage. 

Here ! ” said the captain, some lady wants you. Camo 
by the omnibus from Jutpoiut, I gather; got a white figure- 
head.” 

He stumped out the back w^ay as he spoke, and Mrs. Con • 
naught entered the parlor. When Lady Ellis was a girl of 
fifteen, twenty years before, and she an unmarried w^oman 
getting on for forty, they had seen a good deal of each other. 
Not having met since, each had some little difficulty in making 
the recognition of the other ; but it dawmed at last. 

“I could not stay any longer from coming to see you,” said 
Lady Ellis. You seem to be the only link left of my early 


COASTDOWN. 


183 


home and my dear parents. Forgive me for intruding on*you 
to-day ; had I waited longer I might not have been able to 
come at all. 

She sat down and untied her bonnet, and laid hold of Mrs. 
Connaught’s hand and kept it, letting fall some tears. Old 
Connaught stared more than ever; Mrs. Connaught, not a 
demonstative woman, but simple and kindly, answered in 
kind. 

“ How long it seems ago ! And you must have grown 
grand since then, Lad}^ Ellis ! But I never knew your people 
very much, you know.” 

“ Ah, you forget ! I grand ! ” — she went on, with a cheery 
laugh ; ^^you will soon see how different I am from that.- I 
came home to find nearly all those I cared for dead ; you only 
are left, and I thought I must come down and find you out. 
Dear Mrs. Connaught, dear old friend, the longing for it got 
irrepressible.” 

Lad}^ Ellis, it may be remembered, had penciled down Mrs. 
Connaught’s address at Mrs. Chester’s, as supplied by Mr. 

• Thorn}' croft. It might prove useful, she thought, on some 
future occasion. And the occasion had come. 

The world, as she thought, had not dealt bountifully with 
her; quite the opposite. Hot to mince the matter, she had to 
scheme to live, just as much as Mrs. Chester had, only in a 
difierent way. She liked good clothes, she liked ease and good 
living. Never, save for those few short days of her Indian 
marriage, had she known what it was' to be free from care. 
Her father had liked play better than work ; both he and her 
mother, had a propensity to live beyond their income, to get 
into society that was above them, for they were not altogether 
gentlepeople. Extravagance, struggles, debts, pinching ; all 
sorts of contrivances and care, outside show, meanness at home 
— such had been the experience of Angeline Finch, until some 
lucky chance took her to India as companion to a lady, and a 
still luckier introduced her to Sir George Ellis, an old man in 
his dotage. Two years of her reign as my lady — two blessed 
years ; show, ease, life. Looking back upon them now, they 
seemed like a very haven. But Sir George died; it came to 
an end ; and she home to Europe again, where she found her- 
self a little embarrassed how to get along in the world. 

Whether she had lost sight of her European acquaintances 
during her stay in India, or whether she had originally not 
possessed many, certain it was they seemed scarce now. 


184 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


The vision, coming and going almost like a flash of light- 
ning, of Mr. Thornycroft and his daughter, the gentleman’s 
evident admiration of her, the tales she heard (perhaps exag- 
gerated) of tlie style of living and the wealth at the li(3d 
Court, had set her mind a-longing. She thought often how 
desirable would be a visit there: what might it not lead to? 
The determination to eftect it grew into a settled hope. It 
might almost have been called a prevision, as you will find 
from what came of it. Of all the ills that can possibly befall 
this life. Lady Ellis, perhaps from the circumstances of her 
early experience, regarded poverty as the most fatal. She had 
grown to dread it awfully. After that short interval of ease 
and luxurj^, the thought of having to relapse back to contri- 
vances, debts, duns, difficulties, turned her sick. Ah, what a 
difference it is ! — what a wide gap between ! — a shoulder of 
mutton for dinner one day, cold the next, hashed the third, 
beer limited, a gown turned and turned again, shabby at the 
best ; and a good dinner of three courses and wines, and the 
toilette of Madame Elise ! 

And so, Lady Ellis, working out her own plans, had come- 
swooping down to-day on Coastdown and Mrs. Connaught. 

She went up to Mr. Connaught and took his hand; she 
looked admiringly at him, as if a yellow flannel gown and 
cotton nightcap were the most charming articles of attire that 
fashion could produce ; she expressed her sorrow for his ail- 
ments with a gentle voice. Certainly she did her best to win 
his heart and his wife’s, and went three-parts of the way 
towards doing it. 

Meanwhile things were in a commotion at the Eed Court 
Earm. On the departure of Miss Derode at Christmas the 
justice had put his daughter to school, an eligible place eight 
rniles onl}" away. She had gone rebelliously ; stayed rebel- 
liously; and now finished up bj^ running home again. 

As the justice found when he got home. Mary Anne flatly 
refused to go back. She refused altogether to leave home. 

Mr. Thornycroft, privately not knowing in the least what to 
do with his self-willed daughter, sat in his magisterial cliair 
the young lady carpeted before him. All he could say, and he 
said a great deal,- did not move her in the least ; back to school 
she would not go. It seemed that she had resumed at once 
old habits ; had fed her birds, sang her songs to the grand 
piano, danced gleefully in and out amid the servants, and 


COASTDOWN. 


185 


finally put on a most charming silk dress of delicate color, that 
she would never have been permitted to wear at school, and 
was too good to have been taken there. 

^‘1 shall drive you back in an hour, Mary Anne.’^ 

I will not go, papa.^^ 

What’s that, girl? Do you mean to tell me to my face 
you will not go when I say you shall? That’s something 
new.” 

Of course if you make me get into the carriage and drive 
me there yourself, I cannot help it ; but I should run away 
again to-morrow.” 

It is enough disgrace to you to have run away once.” 

Mary Anne stood, half in contrition, half in defiance. 
Nearly seventeen now, tall and fair, very handsome, she 
scarcely looked one to be coerced to this step*^ . Her clear blue 
eyes met those of her father; the very self-same eyes as his, 
the self-same will in them. 

As to disgrace, papa, I did nothing more than come 
straight home. It was the same thing as a morning walk, 
and I have often gone out for tliatP 

^‘What do you suppose is to become of you?” questioned 
Mr. Thornycroft, the conviction seating itself within him that 
she would not be forced from home again. He ran away from 
school himself, and his father had never been able to get him 
back to it. Mary Anne had inherited his self-will. 

I can learn at home. Oh, papa, I will be very good and 
obedient if you let me stay.” 

You are too old now to be at home alone. And you would 
not obey mademoiselle, you know.” 

“If you had wanted to place me at school you should have 
done it when I was young, papa. I am too old to be sent 
there now, for the first time.” 

Inwardly the justice acknowledged the truth of this. He 
—began thinking that he must keep her, and engage some strict 
governess. But he did not want to do this ; he objected to 
having governesses at the Bed Court Farm. 

“ You don’t believe me perhaps, papa. Indeed, I will be 
good and obedient ; but you must not send me away ! ” 

He supposed it must be so. He did not see his way clearly 
out of the dilemma ; she had been ijidulged always, she must 
be indulged still. Some signs of relenting in the blue eyes — 


188 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


liaiidsoiiie still as liis daughter’s — Mary Anne saw it, and flew 
into his arms with a shower of tears. 

What an opportunity for Lady Ellis ! She stayed on at 
Mrs. Connaught’s, and went daily to the Eed Court, and read 
with Mary Anne and saw to her studies; and was her charm- 
ing companion and indulgent governess. Excursions abroad 
in plenty! Going to Jutpoiiit in Mr. Thorn^^croft’s high 
carriage ; sailing to sea in Tomlett’s boat ; here, there, every- 
where I The young men happened to be away at this period, 
and Lady Ellis had the field open. 

There were some weeks of it. My lady had made a private 
arrangement with Mrs. Connaught, insisting upon paying for 
herself while she stayed. The sea air was doing her so much 
good, she said. Ihe sea air! My lady would have taken up 
her permanent abode in old Betts’s boat rather than have 
removed herself to a distance from that desirable pile of 
buildings, the Eed Court Farm. Looking at it from her little 
chamber window, that is, at its chimneys, and imagining the 
charming life underneath, it appeared to her as a very haven 
of refuge. 

And Justice Thornj-croft was becoming fascinated. He 
began to think there was not such another woman in the 
world. 

Perhaps there was not. Let Harry Thornycroft be assured 
of one thing — that when these clever women set their minds 
to ]a,y hold of a man, to bend him to their will, in nine cases 
out of ten they will carry it out, surrounding circumstances 
aiding and abetting. 

One day when she was dining at the Eed Court Farm, she 
suggested to Mr. Thornycroft that he should take a dame de 
compagnie for Mary Anne. She always appeared to have that 
young lady’s best interest on her mind and heart and tongue. 
Mary Anne, accustomed to do what she liked, went out with 
the cheese. 

It is the only thing, as you will not have a governess. 
Believe me, my dear sir, it is the only thing for that dear 
child,” she urged, her dark eyes going straight out to the 
honest blue ones of Harry Thornycroft. 

He made no reply. He was thinking that a dame de 
compagnie might be more troublesome at the Eed Court than 
even a governess. 

Mary Anne wants now some one who will train her mind 


COASTDOWN. 


187 


and form her manners, Mr. Thornycroft. It is essential that 
it should be done. Wanting a mother, wanting a step-mother, 
I see only one alternative — a gentlewoman, who will be friend, 
governess, and companion in one. It is a pity, for her sake, 
that you did not marry again.^^ 

Mr. Thornycroft put out a glass of wine with a sudden 
movement, and drank it. Lady Ellis resumed, piteously. 

“ Ah, forgive me ! I know I ought not to he so free to say 
these things. I was but thinking of that dear child. You 
will forgive me ? 

^^There^s nothing to forgive,’^ said the justice. ^^I am ex- 
ceedingly obliged for the interest you take in her, and for any 
suggestion you may make. The consideration is — what to do 
for the best ? I don’t see my way clear.” 

He sat with his fine head a little bent, the light of the wax 
chandelier falling on his fair, and still luxuriant, hair ; his 
blue eyes went out to the opposite wall, seeing nothing; his 
fingers played with the wine glass on the table. Evidently 
there were considerations to be regarded of which Lady Ellis 
knew nothing. 

It has been partly out of love to my daughter that I have 
never given her a step-mother,” said he, coming out of his 
reverie. Second wives are apt to make the home unhappy 
for the first children ; you often see it.” 

She smiled sweetly on him. Dear Mr. Thornycroft ! 
Make the home unhappj^- ! Ah, then, yes, perhaps so ! 
Women with a hard selfish nature. Still I do not see how 
even the^ could help loving Mar}^ Anne. She is so ” 

What she was, Mr. Thornycroft lost the pleasure of hearing. 
Sinnett the housekeeper came in at this juncture, and said the 
landlord of the Mermaid, John Pettipher, had come up, ask- 
ing to see the justice. Tomlett has been quarrelling with 
him, he says, sir,” added Sinnett, ‘^and he wants to have the 
law of him.” 

Tomlett’s a fool ! ” burst impulsively from the lips of Mr. 
Thornycroft. Show him into the justice room, Sinnett.” 

He went out with a brief word of apology, and he never 
came back again. My lady sat and waited, and looked and 
hoped, but he did not return to gladden her with his presence. 
At length Sinnett came in with some tea. 

Is Mr. Thornycroft gone out ? ” she asked. 

Yes, my lady. He went out with John Pettipher.” 


188 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


She almost crushed the fragile cup of Sevres china in hei 
passionate fingers. Had Mr. John Pettipher heard the good 
wishes lavished upon him that evening, he might have stared 
considerably. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

WHAT WAS THE FEAR? 

The early buds had gone, the fiowers of May were spring- 
ing. Richard and Isaac Thornycroft were at home again, and 
the old profuse, irregular mode of life reigned at the Red 
Court Farm. 

The skies are grey this afternoon ; there is a chillness in the 
early summer air. Mr. Thornycroft, leaning lightly on the 
slender railings, that separate his grounds from the plateau, 
looks up to see whether rain will be falling. 

There was trouble at home with Mary Anne. Uncontrolled 
as she was just now, no female friend to watch over her, she 
went her own way. Not any’- very bad way;. only a little 
inexpedient. Masters came from the nearest town for her 
studies, taking up an hour or two each day ; the rest of it she 
exercised her own will. The fear of school had subsided by 
this time, and she was growing wilful again — careering about 
on the heath*; calling in at Captain Copp’s and other houses ; 
seated on some old timber on the beach, talking to the fisher- 
men ; riding off alone on her pony ; jolting away (she had 
done it twice) in the omnibus to Jutpoint, without saying a 
word to anybody. Only on the previous day she had gone out 
in old Betts’s tub of a boat, with the old man- and his little 
son, got benighted, and frightened them at home. Clearly 
this was a state of things that could not be allowed to con- 
tinue ; and Mr. Thornycroft, leaning there on the railings, 
was revolving a question : should he ask Lady EUis to come 
to the Red Court as dame de compagiiie ? — or as his wife ? 

Of the two, a wife would be less dangerous than a com- 
panion,” thought Justice Thornycroft, giving the light railings 
a shake with his strong hand. I’m not dying for either ; 
but then — there’s Mary Anne.” 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR ? 


189 


Almost as if she had heard the word, his daughter came 
out of the house and ran up to him. The justice put his hand 
on hers. 

“What are you doing here, papa ? 

“ Thinking about you.” 

About me ? ” 

“Yes, about you. You are getting on for seventeen, Mary 
Anne; you have as much common sense as most people; 
therefore — listen, I want to speak to you seriously.” 

She had turned her head at the ringing of the bell of the 
outer gate. But the injunction brought it round again. 

“ Therefore you must be quite well aware, without my 
having to reiterate it to you, that this kind of thing cannot 
be allowed to go on.” 

“ I do no harm,” said Mary Anne, knowing well to what 
the words tended. 

“ Harm or no harm, it cannot go on ; it shall not. Now, 
which will you do — go -to school again, or have a governess? ” 

“ I don’t want either,” she answered, with a pout of her 
decisive lips. 

“ Or would you like — it is the one other alternative — a lady 
to come here as your friend and companion ?” 

“Frankly speaking, papa, I don’t see what the dilference 
would be between a companion and a governess. Of course, 
of the two I’d rather have a companion. To school I will not 
go. Lady Ellis was talking to me of this. I think she was 
fishing to be the companion herself.” 

“Fishing ! ” echoed the justice. 

“ Well, I do.” 

“ Would you like her ? ” 

“Not at all, papa.” 

“ Who is it that you would like ?” asked the justice, tartly. 

“ I should like nobody in that capacity. I might put up 
with it ; but that is very different from liking.” 

“ For my own part, if we decide upon a companion, there’s 
no one I would so soon have as Lady Ellis,” remarked Mr. 
Thornycroft. “ Would you ? ” 

“ La la, la la ! ” sang Mary Anne, her eyes following a pass- 
ing bird. 

“ Answer me without further trifling,” sternly resumed Mr. 
Thornycroft, putting his hand on her shoulder. 

Tlie tone sobered her. “ Of course, papa ; if some one 
must come, why, let it be Lady Ellis.” 


190 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Heaving a sort of relieved sigh, he released her, and she 
went away singing to herself a scrap of a pretty little French 
song, the refrain of which was, rendered in English — If you 
come to-day, madam, you go to-morrow.^^ 

The misapprehension that arises in this world ! Hone of 
us are perfectly open one with the other. Between the hus- 
band and the wife, the parents and the children, the brothers 
and the sisters, involuntarj’" deceit reigns. Mr. Thornycroft 
assumed that Lady Ellis would be more acceptable to his 
daughter as a resident at the Eed Court than any one else 
that could be found: had Miss Thornycroft spoken the truth 
boldly, she would have said that my Lady Ellis was her hete 
noire ; the person she most disliked of all others on earth. 

But the chief question was not solved yet in the mind of 
J ustice Thornycroft. Should it be wife, or should it be only 
companion ? He was quite sufficiently taken with my lady’s 
fascinations to render the first alternative sufficiently agreeable 
in prospective ; he deemed her a soft-hearted, yielding gentle- 
woman ; he repeated over again to himself the mysterious 
words, “ As a wife she would be less dangerous than a com- 
panion.” But still, there were considerations against it that 
made him hesitate. And with good cause. 

He went strolling towards the village, turning down the 
waste land, a right of way that was his own, past the plateau. 
The first blouse, at the corner of the street, was the Mermaid. 
He passed the end of it, and struck across to a low commodi- 
ous cottage on the cliffs, whose rooms were all on the ground- 
floor. Tomlett lived in it; he was called the fishing-boat 
master, and was also employed occasionally on the farm of Mr. 
Thornycroft, as he had leisure. Mrs. Tomlett, a little woman 
with a red face and shrill voice, was hanging out linen on the 
lines, to dry. 

“Where’s Tomlett to-day ? ” asked the justice. “He has 
not been to the farm.” 

Mrs. Tomlett turned sharply round, for she had not heard 
the approach, and dropped a curtsey to the justice. “He 
have gone to Dartfield, sir,” she answered, lowering her voice 
to the key people use when talking secrets. “ Mr. Eicliard he 
come in the first thing this morning and sent him.” 

Mr. Thornycroft nodded, and went away, muttering to him- 
self exclusively something to the effect that Kichard miglit 
have mentioned it. Passing round by the Mermaid again, he 
went towards home. 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR? 


191 


And he was charmingly rewarded. Standing on the waste 
land near the plateau, in her pretty and becoming bonnet of 
delicate primrose and white her Indian shawl folded gracefully 
round her, her dress looped, was Lady Ellis. 

^^Do you know, Mr. Thornycroft,^’ she said, as he took her 
hand, I have never been on the plateau. Will you take 
me ? 

Mr. Thornycroft hesitated visibly. It is not a place for a 
lady to go to,” he said, after a pause. 

^^But why not ? Mary Anne told me one day you objected 
to her going on it.” 

I do. The real objection is the danger. The cliff has a 
treacherous edge just there, and you might be over before you 
were aware. A sharp gust of wind, a footing too near or not 
quite secure, and the evil is done. Some accidents have 
occurred there ; one, the last of them, was attended by very 
sad circumstances, and I then had these railings put round.” 

You said the real objection was the danger; is there any 
other objection?” resumed Lady Ellis, who never lost a word 
or its emphasis. 

There are certain superstitious fancies connected with the 
plateau,” answered Mr. Thornycroft, and very much to her 
surprise his face took a solemn look, his voice a subdued tone, 
just as if he himself believ^ed in them: ^^a less tangible fear 
than the danger, but one that effectually scares visitors away, 
at night especially.” 

They were walking round towards the Bed Court now, to 
which he had turned, and Mr. Thornycroft changed the 
subject. She could not fail to see that he wished it dropped. 
At the gates of the farm she wished him good afternoon, and 
took the road to the heath. 

Justice Thornycroft did not enter the gates, but went round 
to the back entrance. Passing by the various outbuildings, 
he gained the yard, just as a man was driving out with a 
wagon and team. 

Wliere are you going ? ” asked the justice. 

After the oats, sir. Mr. Bichard telled me.” 

Is Mr. Bichard about ? ” 

He be close to his own stables, sir.” 

Mr. Thornj^croft went on across the yard, not to the house 
but to the stables at its end. This portion of the stables (as 
may be remembered) was detached from the rest, and had 


192 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


formed part of the old ruins. It was shut in by a wall. The 
horses of the two elder sons were kept there, and their dog- 
cart. It was their whim and pleasure that Hyde, the man- 
servant (who could turn his hand to anything indoors or out), 
should attend to this dog-cart and the horses used in it, and 
not the groom, itichard was sitting on the frame of the well 
just on this side the wall, doing something to the collar of his 

Dicky said the justice, without any sort of circumlocu- 
tion, “ I think I shall give the Eed Court a mistress.’^ 

Eichard lifted his dark stern face to see whether — as he 
verily thought — his father was joking. ^^Give it a what 
he asked. 

A mistress. I shall take a wife, I think.” 

Are you mad, sir ? ” asked Eichard, after a pause. 

Softly, softly, Dick.” 

Eichard lifted his towering form to its full height. Every 
feeling within him, every sense of reason rebelled against the 
notion of the measure. A few sharp words ensued, and Eich- 
ard went into a swearing fit. 

I knew it would be so; he was always hot and hasty,” 
thought the justice to himself. What behavior do you call 
this? ” he asked aloud. Perhaps if you’ll hear what I have 
to say you may cool down. Do you suppose I should he in- 
tending to marry for my own gratification ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t suppose you’d be marrying for that of anybody 
else,” said the undaunted Eichard. 

“ It is for the sake of Mary Anne. Some one must be here 
with her, and a wife will be less — less risk than a crafty, in- 
quisitive governess.” 

For the sake of Mary Anne ! ” ironically retorted Eichard. 

Send Mary Anne to school.” 

“ I did send her ; and she came back again.” 

I’d keep her there with cords. I said so at the time.” 

Unfortunately she won’t be kept. She has a touch of the 
Thornycroft will, Dick.” 

“ Hang the Thornycroft will ! ” was Dick’s angry answer. 
Hot but what it was a stronger word he said. 

“ When you have cooled down from your passion I’ll talk 
further with you,” said the justice, some irritation arising in 
his own tone. You have no right to display this temper to 
I am master here, remember, Dick ; though sometimes. 


me. 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR ? 193 

if appearances may be trusted, you like to act as if you forgot 
that/^ 

E/ichard bit his dark lip. You must know how inexpedi- 
ent the measure would be, sir. Give yourself a wife ! — the 
house a mistress ! Why, the place might no longer be our 
own.” 

Do you suppose I have not weighed the subject on all 
sides ? I have been weeks considering it, and I have come to 
the conclusion that of the two — a wife or a governess — the 
former will be the less risk.” 

“i^o,” said Eichard; “a governess may be got rid of in an 
hour ; a wife, never.” 

“But a governess might go out in the world and talk ; a 
wife would not.” 

Eichard dashed the dog^s collar on the ground which he had 
held all the while. Mark me, father ” — he said, his stern 
eyes and resolute lips presenting a picture of angry warning 
rarely equalled — “this step, if you enter on it, will lead to 
what you have so long lived in dread of, — to what we are ever 
scheming to guard against. Mary Anne ! Before that girl’s 
puny interests should lead me to — to a measure that may 
bring ruin in its wake, I’d send her off to the wilds of Africa.” 

He strode awa}^, haughty, imperious, rigid in his sharp 
condemnation. Mr. Thorny croft, one of those men whom 
opposition only hardens, turned to the fields, thinking of his 
brother Eichard ; Dick was so like him. There he found 
Isaac, stretched idly on the ground with a book. The young 
man rose at once in his respect to bis father. His handsome 
velveteen coat, light summer trousers and white linen, his tall 
form with its nameless grace, his fair features, clear blue eyes 
and waving light hair, presenting as fine a picture as man 
ever made. 

“ That’s one way of being useful,” remarked jMt. Tborny- 
croft. 

Isaac laughed. “ I confess I am idle this afternoon : and 
there’s nothing particular to do.” 

Isaac — ” Mr. Thorny croft came to a long pause, and 
then went on rapidly, imparting the news that he had to tell. 
And it was a somewhat curious fact, that an embarrassment 
pervaded his manner in making this communication to his 
second son, quite contrasting with the easy coolness shown to 
12 


194 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


his eldest. A bright flush rose to Isaac’s fair Saxon face as 
he listened. 

“A wife, sir! Will it be well that you should introduce 
one to the Ited Court? ” 

“ Don’t make me go over the ground again, Isaac. I repeat 
that I think it loill be well. Some lady must be had here — a 
wife or a governess, and the former in my judgment will be 
the lesser evil.'’ 

^^As you please, of course, sir,” returned Isaac, who could 
not forget the perfect respect and courtesy due to his father, 
however he might deplore the news. ‘^I have heard you 
say ” 

“ Well ? Speak out, Ikey.” 

That had the time to come over again you would not have 
married my mother. I think it killed her, sir.” 

^^My marrjang her?” asked the justice in a joke. Isaac 
smiled. 

“ !N'o, sir. You know what I mean ; the constant state of 
fear she lived in.” 

She was one of those sensitive, timid women that fear 
works upon ; Cyril is the only one of you like her,” said the 
justice, his thoughts reverting with some sadness to his 
departed wife. But the error committed there, Isaac, lay in 
my disclosing it to her.” 

In disclosing what, sir ? ” asked Isaac, rather at sea. 

The secret connected with the* Bed Court Farm,” 
laconically answered Mr. Thorn^T-croft. 

there ensued a pause. Isaac put a straw in his lips and 
bit it like a man in pain. He had loved his mother with no 
common love ; to hear that her place was to be occupied fell on 
him like a blow, putting aside other considerations against it. 

It is a great risk, sir.” 

I don’t see it, Isaac. But for an accident your mother 
would never have suspected. I then disclosed the truth to 
her, and I cursed myself for my folly afterwards. But for 
that she might have been with us now. As to risk, we run 
the same every day with Mary Anne. Ah me I your poor 
mother was too sensitive, and the fear killed her.” 

Isaac winced. He remembered how his mother had faded 
visibly, day by day ; he could see, even now, the alarm in her 
soft eyes that the twilight often brought. 

Mr. Thorny croft went away with the last words. Bichard, 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR? 


195 


who appeared to have been reconnoitering, came striding np to 
his brother, and let off a little of his superfluous anger, talk- 
ing loud and fast. 

He is going out of his senses ; you know it must be so, 
Isaac. Who is the woman ? Did he tell you ? 

replied Isaac; but I can give a pretty shrewd 
guess at her.^^ 

Well ? , 

Lady Ellis.’^ 

Who ? roared Richard, as if too much surprised to hear 
the name distinctly. 

‘^Lady Ellis. I have seen him walking with her two or 
three times lately.^^ 

“ The devil take Lady Ellis ! ’’ 

So say I ; rather than she should come into the Red 
Court.^’ 

Lady Ellis ! repeated Richard, panic-stricken. That 
beetle-browed, bold-eyed woman — with her soft, false words, 
and her stealthy step ! ^W^are her, Isaac. Mark me, Svare 
her, all of us, should she come home to the Red Court ! ’’ 


The June roses were in bloom, and the nightingales sang in 
the green branches. Perfume was exhaled from the linden 
trees ; butterflies floated in the air ; insects hummed through 
the summer day. Out at sea the fishing-boats lay idly on the 
sparkling waves that gently rippled in the sun. And in this 
joyous time the new mistress came home to the Red Court 
Farm. 

Lady Ellis had departed for London. Some three weeks 
afterwards Mr. Thornycroft went up one day, and was married 
the next, having said nothing at all at home. It came upon 
Mary Anne like a thunderbolt. She cried, she sobbed, she felt 
every feeling within her outraged. 

Isaac, I hate Lady Ellis ! 

In that first moment, with the shock upon her, it was worse 
than useless to argue or persuade, and Isaac wisely left it. 
The mischief was done ; and all that remained for them was to 
make the best of it. Mary Anne, with the independence of 
will that characterized her, wrote off a pressing mandate to 
France, which brought Mademoiselle Derode back again. In 
the girPs grief, she instinctively turned to the little governess, 
her kind friend in the past years. 


196 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


And now, after a fortnight’s lapse, the mature bridegroom 
and bride were coming home. The Red Court had made its 
preparations to receive them. Mary Anne Thornycroft stood 
in the large drawing-room in use this evening, wearing a pale 
blue silk of delicate brightness. Her hard opposition had 
yielded. Isaac persuaded, mademoiselle reasoned, Richard 
came down upon her with a short, stern command — and slie 
stood ready, if not exactly to welcome, at least to receive civil- 
ly her father’s wife. Richard appeared to have fallen in with 
Isaac’s recommendation — that they should make the best of 
it.” At an^^ rate he no longer showed anger ; and he ordered 
his sister not to do it. So, apparently, all was smooth. 

She stood there in her gleaming silk, with blue ribbons in 
her hair, and a deep flush in her fair face. Little Miss 
Lerode, her dark brown eyes kindly and simple as ever, her 
small face browner, sat placidly .working at a strip of embroi- 
dery. It was striking six, the hour for which Mr. Thornycroft 
had desired dinner to be ready. 

Wheels were heard, the signal of the approach. They were 
pretty punctual, then. Isaac went out ; it was evident that 
he at least intended to pay due respect to his father’s wile. 
Presently Hyde, who had worn a long face ever since the 
wedding, threw open the drawing-room door. 

“The justice and Lady Ellis.” 

The man had spoken her old name in his sore feeling, little 
thinking that she intended to retain it, in defiance of good 
taste. She approached Mary Anne, and kissed her. That 
ill-trained young lady submitted to it for an instant, and then 
burst into a passionate fit of angry sobs on her father’s 
breast. 

“Don’t be a goose,” whispered the justice, fondly kissing 
her. “ Halloa ! why, is it you^ mademoiselle ? ” he cried out, 
his eyes falling on the governess. “ When did you come 
over ? ” 

“ She came over because I sent for her, papa ; and she has 
been here nine or ten days.” 

A few minutes and they went in to dinner. Richard’s 
place was vacant. 

“ Where’s your brother, Isaac ? ” asked the justice. 

“ I believe he had to go out, sir.” 

Lady Ellis wondered a little at the profuseness of the din- 
ner, but supposed it was in honor of herself, and felt gratified. 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR? 


197 


It was, in fact, the usual style of dining at the Red Court, 
except at those quiet times (somewhat rare) when the two 
elder sons were away from home. But Lady Ellis did not 
suspect this. 

Vastly agreeable did she make herself. Isaac, seated at her 
left elbow, was the most attractive man she had come in con- 
tact with since the advent of Mr. Lake, and Lady Ellis liked 
attractive men, even though they could be nothing more to 
her than step-sons. But she had come home to the Court 
reall}^ intending to be cordial with its inmates. And, as it has 
been already hinted, Richard and Isaac saw the policy of 
making the best of things. 

If ever Mademoiselle Derode had been fascinated with a 
person at first sight, it was with Lady Ellis. The delicate 
attentions of that ladj?- won her heart. When they crossed 
the hall to the drawing-room after dinner, and my lady linked 
her arm within that of her unwilling step-daughter, and 
extended the other to take the poor little withered hand of 
the Frenchwoman, mademoiselle’s heart went out to her. 
Very far indeed was it from the intention of Lady Ellis to 
undertake the completion of Mary Anne’s education, whatever 
might be the private expectation of Mr. Thorny croft : in the 
visit of the ex-governess she saw a solution of the difficulty — 
mademoiselle should remain and resume her situation. To 
bring this about by crafty means, her usual way of going to 
work, instead of open ones, my lady set out by being very 
charming with the governess. The very fact of mademoi- 
selle’s having been prejudiced by Miss Thornycroft against 
the stepmother who was coming home, served to augment 
within her the feeling of fascination. A dark, ugly woman, 
poor and pretentious, who has not an iota of good feeling or of 
truth within her whole composition,” spoke Miss Mary Anne, 
judging of her exactly as Richard did. Great was mademoi- 
selle’s surprise to see the handsome, fascinating, superbly 
dressed lady, who came in upon them with her soft smile and 
suave manners. She thought Miss Thornycroft had spoken 
in prejudice only, and almost resented it for the new lady’s 
sake. 

It was daylight still, and Lady Ellis stood for a minute at 
the window, open to the evening’s loveliness. The sun had 
set, but some of its golden brightness lingered yet in the sky. 
Lady Ellis leaned from the window and plucked a rose from a 


198 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


tree within reach. Mademoiselle stood near ; Mary Anne sat 
down on the music stool, her back to the room and her eyes 
busied with an uninteresting page of music, striking a bar of 
it now and again. 

“ Are you fond of flowers, miladi ? asked the simple little 
Frenchwoman. think there’s nothing so good hardly in 
the world.” 

“You shall have this rose, then. Stay, let me place it in 
your waistband. There! — you will have the perfume now 
until it fades.” 

Mademoiselle caught the delicate hand and imprinted a 
kiss upon it. Single-minded, simple hearted, possessing no 
discernment at the best of times, artless as a child, she took 
all the sweet looks and kind tones for real. Lady Ellis sat 
down on an ottoman in front of the window, and graciously 
drew mademoiselle beside her. 

“ Do you live in Paris ? ” 

“I live in Paris now with my mother. We have a sweet 
little appartement near the Pue Montagne — one room and a 
cabinet de toilette and a very little kitchen, and we are happy. 
We go to the Champs Elys^es with our work on fine da3^s, to 
sit there and see the world : — the fine toilettes and the little 
ones at play. It was long to be separated from her, all the 
years that I was here.” 

“ How many were they ? ” 

“Seven. Yes, miladi, seven ! But what wdll you? I had 
to gain. My mother she has a very small rente, and I came 
here. Mr. Thornycroft he was liberal to me — he is liberal to 
all, — and I saved enough to have on 1113^ side a little rente too. 
I went home when it was decided I should leave my pupil, 
and took my mother from the pension where she had stayed : 
and now we are happy together.” 

A thought crossed Lady Ellis that the charming apartment 
near the Bue Montagne, and the mother in it, might prove 
some impediment to her scheme. Well — it would require the 
greater diplomacy. 

“ Is your mother old ? ” 

“ She will be sixty-five on the day of the All-Saints ; and I 
was forty last month,” added mademoiselle, with the candor as 
to age that is characteristic of a Frenchwoman. Suddenly, 
just as Lady Ellis was clasping the withered brown hand with 
a sweet smile, mademoiselle, without intending the least dis- 
courtesy, started up, her eyes fixed upon the plateau. 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR ? 


199 


^‘Ah, bah/’ she said, sitting down again. ^^It is but the 
donanier — the preventive man.” 

Lady Ellis naturally looked out, and saw a man pacing 
along the border of the plateau. The superstition, said to be 
connected with the place, came into her mind, but did not stay 
there. 

You were here in the time of Mrs. Thornycroft, madem- 
oiselle ? ” 

Ah, yes ; she did not die for a long while after I came.” 

She had years of ill health, I have heard. What was the 
matter with her ? ” 

It was but weakness, as we all thought,” answered the 
Frenchwoman. There was nothing to be told; no disease to 
be found. She got thinnet every week, and month, and year ; 
like one who fades away. The doctor he came and came, and 
said the lungs were wrong; and so she died. Ah, she was so 
gentle, so patient ; never murmuring, never complaining. 
Miladi, she was just an angel.” 

What had she to complain of? ” asked miladi. 

What to complain of? Why, her sickness; her waste of 
strength. Everything was done for her that could be, except 
one — and that was to go from home. It was urged upon her, 
but she would not listen ; she used to shudder at the thought.” 

But why ? ” wondered Lady Ellis. 

I never knew. My pupil. Miss Mary Anne, never knew. 
She would kneel at her mamma’s feet, and beg her to go any- 
where, and to take her ; but the poor lady would shake her 
head, or say quietly, no ; and that would end it.” 

Mademoiselle Virginie Derode was a capable w'oman in her 
vocation. She could do a vast many things useful, good, 
necessary to be done in the world. But there was one thing 
that she could not do, and that was — hold her tongue. Some 
people are born with the bump of reticence ; my Lady Ellis 
was a case in point : some, it may be said, with the bump of 
communicativeness, though I don’t know where it lies. Made- 
moiselle was an exemplification of the latter. 

There w'as some secret — some trouble on Madame Thorny- 
croft’s mind,” said good mademoiselle in her open-heartedness. 

Towards the last, when the weakness grew to worse and 
worse, she would — what do you call it ? — wander a little ; and 
I once heard her say that it had killed her. Mr. Isaac, he 
was in the room at the time, and he shook his mother — -gently. 


200 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


you know, he loved her ver}’- much ; and told her she was 
dreaming, and talking in lier sleep. That aroused her; and 
she laid her head upon his shoulder, and thanked him for 
awaking her. 

“And was she talking in her sleep?” 

“ Ah, no ; she was not asleep. But I think Mr. Isaac said 
it because of me. I saw. there was something, always from 
the time I first came ; she used to start at shadows ; if the 
window did but creak she w’ould turn wdfite, and stare at it ; 
if the door but opened suddenly, she wmuld turn all over in a 
cold sw^eat. It was like a great fear that never went aw^ay.” 

“ But what fear was it ? ” reiterated Lady Ellis. 

“ I used to repeat to myself that same question — ^ What is 
it ? ’ One day I said to Hyde, as I saw him watching his 
mistress, ^ She has got some trouble upon her mind ? ’ and he, 
that polite Hyde, called me a French idiot, to my face, saying 
she had no more trouble on her mind than he had on his. I 
never saw Hyde fierce but that one time. Ah, but yes ; she 
certainly said it ; that it had killed her.” 

“ That wAat had killed her ? ” still questioned Lady Ellis, 
considerably at sea. 

“ I had to guess what ; I knew^ it quite w^ell as I listened ; 
the secret trouble that had been upon her like a fright per- 
petual.” 

Lady Ellis threw her piercing eyes upon the soft and simple 
ones of the little Frenchwoman. All this w^as as food for her 
curious mind. “A perpetual fright 1” she repeated musingly. 
“ I never heard of such a thing. TYhat w^as it connected 
with ? ” 

“I don’t know, unless it was connected with that horror of 
tlie plateau. Miladi, I used to think it might be.” 

Casting her thoughts back some few weeks. Lady Ellis 
remembered the little episode of her proposing to go on the 
plateau, and Mr. Thornycroft’s words as he opposed it. She 
turned this to use now’- with mademoiselle in her clever w^ay. 

“ Mr. Thornycroft w-as speaking to me about this — this 
mystery connected with the plateau, but w^e were interrupted, 
and I did not gather much. It is a mystery, is it not, made- 
moiselle ? ” 

“ But, yes ; it might be a called mystery,” was the answer. 

“ Will you recite it to me ? ” 

Mademoiselle knew very little to recite; but that little slie 


WHAT WAS THE EEAE ? 


201 


remembered with as much distinctness as though it had hap- 
pened yesterday. One light evening in the bygone years, 
shortly after she came to the E-ed Court, she went out in the 
garden and strolled on to the plateau. There were no pre- 
ventive railings round it then. It was fresh and pleasant 
there ; the sea was calm, the moonbeams fell across the waves ; 
and a vessel far away, lying apparently at anchor, showed its 
cheery white light. Mademoiselle strolled back towards the 
house, and was about to take another turn, when she saw a 
figure on the edge of the plateau, seemingly standing to look 
at the sea. To her sight it either wore some white garment, 
or else the rays of the moon caused it to appear so. 

At that moment Eichard Thornycroft came up. In turning 
to speak to him mademoiselle lost sight of the plateau, and 
when she looked again, the figure was gone. Was it a 
shadowy sort of figure ? Eichard asked her, in a low voice, 
when she expressed her surprise at the disappearance ; and 
mademoiselle answered after a moment’s consideration that she 
thought it was shadowy. Mr. Eichard looked up at the sky, 
and then down at her, and then far away ; his countenance (it 
seemed to mademoiselle that she could see it now) wearing a 
curious expression of care and awe. ^^It must have been the 
ghost,” he said; it is apt to show itself when strangers 
appear at night on the plateau.” The words nearly startled 
mademoiselle out of her seven senses ; ghosts ” had been her 
one dread through life. She put her poor trembling fingers on 
Eichard’s coat sleeve, and humbly begged him to walk back 
with her as far as the house. Eichard did so ; giving her 
scraps of information on the way. He had never seen the 
figure himself, perhaps because he had specially looked for it, 
but many at Coastdown had seen it ; nay, some even then liv- 
ing at tlie Eed Court. Why did the ghost come there? 
Well, it was said that a murder had been committed on that 
very spot, the edge of the plateau, and the murderer, stung 
with remorse, killed himself, within a few hours, and could not 
rest in his grave. Mademoiselle was too scared to hear all he 
said ; she heard quite enough for her own peace; and she went 
into the presence of Mrs. Thornycroft, bursting into tears. 
When that lady heard what the matter was, she chided Eich- 
ard in her gentle manner. Was there need to have told her 
this ? ” she whispered to him with a strange sorrow, a great 
reproach, in her sad brown eyes. “ I am sorry to have said it 


202 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


if it has alarmed mademoiselle,” was Richard’s answer. It 
need not trouble her ; let her keep off the plateau at night ; it 
never comes in the day.” That Richard believed in it himself 
appeared all too evident, and she remarked it to Mrs. Thorny- 
croft as he left the room. That good lady poured a glass of 
wine out for her with her own hand, and begged her, in 
accents so imploring as to take a tone of wildness, never again 
to go on the plateau after dusk had fallen. No need of the 
injunction ; mademoiselle had scattered onwards ever since 
with her head down, if obliged to go abroad at night in at- 
tendance on Miss Thornycroit. 

To hear her tell this in a low earnest whisper, her brown 
hands clasped, her scared eyes strained on the opposite plateau, 
whose edge stood out defined and clear against the line of sea 
, bevond and the sky above, was the strangest of all to Lady 
Ellis. 

^Mf there is one thing that I have feared in life it is a 
revenant,” confessed mademoiselle. “Were I to see one, 
knowing it was one, I think I should die. There w'as a 
revenant in the convent where they put* me when I was a 
little child ; a white faced nun who had died unshriven ; and 
we used to hear her in the upper corridors on a windy night. 
Ah, me ! I was sick with fear when I listened ; I was but a 
poor little weak thing then, and the dread of reveiiants has 
alwajT^s rested with me.” 

Lady Ellis suppressed her inclination to smile, and pressed 
the trembling brown fingers in her calm ones. With the 
matter-of-fact plateau lying there before her, with her own 
matter-of-fact mind so hard and real, the ghost story sounded 
like what it must be, simple delusion. But that something 
strange was connected with the plateau, she had little doubt. 

“ And what more did you hear of it ? ” she asked. 

“Nothing — nothing more after that night. In a day or 
two, when my courage came to me, and I would have asked 
details, Mr. Thornycroft, who happened to be in the room, 
went into great anger. He told me to hold my tongue ; never 
to speak or think of the subject again, or he should send me 
back to France. I obeyed him ; I did not speak of it ; even 
when there was talk in the village because of the accident, 
and he had the railings put up, I kept myself silent. I could 
not obey him in the other thing — not to think of it. I tried 
not ; and I got dear Mrs. Thornycroft to put my bed in a back 


WHAT WAS THE FEAR? 


203 


room, so that I did not see the plateau from mj window. 
Well, to go hack, miladi : I think it must have been this 
cause, or something connected with it, that brought the fear in 
which she lived to Mrs. Thornycroft.’^ 

Lady Ellis was silent. She could not think anything of 
the sort. Unless, indeed, the late Mrs. Thornycroft was of 
a kindred nature to mademoiselle ; timorous and weak- 
minded. 

The preventive men pace there, do they not ? 

“ By day, yes ; they walk on to it from their beat below, 
but not much at night. Ah, no ! not since the accident ; they 
do not like the ghost.^^ 

Mademoiselle rose ; she was going to Mrs. Wilkinson’s, on 
the heath, for the rest of her stay in Coast down. Saying 
good night to my lady, she w^ent in search of Mary Anne, and 
could not find her. 

Mary Anne was with her brother Isaac. She had flown to 
him after quitting the presence of her step-mother, having 
had much ado to repress all the feelings that went well nigh 
to choke her. With a crimson face and heaving bosom, with 
wild sobs, no longer checked, she threw herself on his neck. 

Now, Mary Anne ! ” 

It has been my place ever since mamma died. It is not 
right that she should take it.” 

He found she was speaking of the seat at table. Every 
little incident of this kind, that must inevitably occur when a 
second wife is brought home, did but add to the feeling of 
bitter grief, of wrong. Not for the place in itself did she 
care, but because a stranger had usurped what had been their 
mother’s. 

Letting the burst of grief spend itself, Isaac Thornycroft 
then sat down, put her in a chair near him, and gave her some 
wise counsel. It would be so much happier for her — for all of 
them — for papa — that they should unite in making the best 
of the new wife come amidst them ; of her, and for her. 

All he said was of little use. Anger, pain, bitter, bitter 
self-reproach sat passionately this night on the heart of Mary 
Anne Thornycroft. 

“ Don’t talk, Isaac. I hope I shall not die of it.” 

Die of it ? ” 

The fault is mine. I can see it well. Had I been obedi- 
ent to Miss Derode ; had I only stayed quietly at school, it 


204 


THE llED COURT FARM. 


never would have happened. Papa would not have brought 
her home, or thought of bringing her home, but for me.” 

That was very true. Mary Anne Thornycroft, in her 
strong good sense, saw the past in its right light. She could 
blame herself just as much as she could others when the cause 
of blame rested with her. Isaac strove to still her emotion ; 
to speak comfort to her; but she only broke out again with 
the words that seemed to come from a bursting heart. 

I hope I shall not die of it ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

V SUPERSTITIOUS TALES. 

With the morning Lady Ellis assumed her position as 
mistress of the Red Court. She took her breakfast in bed — a 
habit she favored — but came down before ten, in a beautiful 
chain dress, delicate roses on a white ground, with some white 
net lace and pink ribbons in her hair. The usual breakfast 
hour w^as eight o’clock, at least it was ahvays laid for that 
hour ; and Mr. Thornycroft and his sons went out afterwards 
on their land. 

Looking into the different rooms, my lady found no one, 
and found her way to the servants’ offices. 

The kitchen, a large square apartment, fitted up with every 
knowm apparatus for cooking, was the first room she came to. 
Its two sash windows looked on the side of the house towards 
the church. It had been built out, comparatively of late 
years, beyond the back of the dining-room, a sort of added 
wing, or projecting corner. But altogether the back of the 
house was irregular; a nook here, a projection there; rooms 
in angles ; casements large or small as might happen. The 
sash windows of the kitchen alone were good and modern, but 
you could not see them frojn the back. Whatever the irreg- 
ularity of the architecture, the premises were spacious ; afford- 
ing every accommodation necessary for a large household. A 
room near the kitchen w'as called the housekeeper’s room ; it 
was carpeted, and the servants sat in it when they pleased; 


SUPERSTITIOUS TALES. 


205 


but they were by no means fashionable servants, going in for 
style and ceremony, and as a rule preferred the kitchen. 
There were seven servants in-doors ; Sinnett being the house- 
keeper. 

My lady — as she was to be called in the house — was 
gracious. The cook showed her the larder, the dairy, and 
anything else she chose to see, and then received the orders 
for dinner — a plain one — fish, a joint, pudding, and cream. 

It was the intention of my lady to feel her way, rather than 
assume authority hurriedly. She saw, with some little sur- 
prise, that no remnant was left of the last day’s dinner ; at 
least none was to be seen. Not that day would she inquire 
after it, but keep a watchful eye on what went from table for 
the future. To say that her rule in the house was to have one 
guiding principle — economy — would be only stating the fact. 
There had been no marriage settlements, and my lady meant 
to line her pocket by dint of saving. 

The rooms were still deserted when she returned to them. 
My lady stood a moment in the hall, wondering if everybody 
was out. The door at the end, shutting off the portion of the 
house used by the young men, caught her eye, and she 
resolved to go on an exploration tour. ' Opening the door 
softly, she saw Hichard Thorny croft in the passage talking to 
Hyde. He raised his hat, as in courtesy bound ; but his dark 
stern fiice never relaxed a muscle ; and somehow it rather 
daunted her. 

My father’s wife, I believe,” said Richard. “ To what 
am I indebted for the honor of this visit ? ” 

Just as if the rooms at this end of the house were his! 
Eut my lady made the best of it. ^ 

It is Mr. Richard, I am sure ! Let us be friends.” 

She held out her hand, and he touched the tips of her 
fingers. 

Certainly. If we are not friends the fault will lie on your 
side,” he pointedly said. interfere with no one in the 

house. I expect no one to interfere with me. Let us observe 
this rule to each other, and I dare say we shall get on very 
well:” 

She gently slid her hand within his, encased in its rough 
coat. Hyde, recovering from his trance of amazement, 
touched his hat, and went out at the outer door. 

I have not been in this portion of the house. Will you 
show it to me ? ” 


206 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


I will show it to you with pleasure : what little there is of 
it to see/^ replied Eichard. But — once seen, I must request 
you to understand that these rooms are for gentlemen only. 
Ladies are out of place in them.” 

She had a great mind to ask why ; hut did not. Very poor 
rooms, as Eichard said — one on either side the passage. Small 
and plain in comparison with the rest of the house. A strip 
of thick cocoa-nut matting ran along the passage to the outer 
door. It was open, and my lady advanced to it. 

Looking at the most confined prospect she ever saw ; in fact, 
at no prospect at all. A wall, in which there was a small 
door of egress, shut out all view of the sea and the plateau. 
Another wall, with wide gates of wood, hid the courtyard and 
the buildings beyond. Opposite, in almost close proxim- 
ity, leaving just space for the dog-cart or other vehicles to 
come in and turn, was the room used as a coach-house, for- 
merly part of the stables when the house w^as a castle. My 
lady walked across the gravel, and entered it. A half-smile 
crossed Eichard’s face. 

There’s not much to see here,” he said. 

Certainly not much. The dog-cart stood in one corner; in 
another were some trusses of straw, and a dilapidated cart 
turned upside down. Adjoining was a stable for the two 
horses alternately used in the dog-cart. My lady stepped 
back to the house door, and took a deliberate survey of the 
whole. 

“ It strikes me as being the dreariest-looking spot possible,” 
she said. A dead wall on each side, and a shut-in coach- 
house opposite ! ” 

‘^Yes. Those who planned it had not much regard to 
prospect,” answered Eichard. But, then, prospect is not 
wanted here.” 

She turned into the rooms ; the windows of both looking on 
this confined yard. In the one room, crowded with guns, 
fishing-rods, dog-collars, boxing gloves, and other implements 
used by the young men, she stood a minute, scanning it curi- 
ously. In the other, on the opposite side the passage, was a 
closed desk-table, a telescope and weather-glass, some arm- 
chairs, pipes, and tobacco. 

This is the room I have heard Mr. Thornycroft call his 
den,” said she, quickly. 

It is. The other one is mine and my brother’s.” 


SUPEKSTITIOUS TALES. 


207 


A narrow twisting staircase led to the two rooms above, 
l^idy, twisting up it, turned into one of the two — • 
Eichard’s bed-chamber. The window looked to the dreary- 
line of coast stretching forward in the distance. 

Who sleeps in the other room ? she asked. 

Hyde. This part of the house is lonely, and I choose to 
have him within call.^^ 

In her amazement to hear him say this— the brave, strong 
man, whom no physical fear could daunt — a thought arose that 
the superstition obtaining at the Eed Court, whatever it miglit 
be, was connected with these shut-in-rooms ; shut in from 
within and without. Somehow the feeling was not pleasant 
to her, and she turned to descend the stairs. 

^^But, Mr. Richard, why do yon sleep here yourself? ’’ 

‘‘ I would not change my room for another ; I am used to it. 
At one time no one slept here, but my mother grew to think 
it was not safe at night. She was nervous at the last.” 

He held the passage-door open, and raised his hat, which 
he had worn all the while, as she went through it, then shut 
it with a loud, decisive click. 

A sort of intimation that I am not wanted there,” thought 
she. He need not fear ; there’s nothing so pleasant to go 
for, rather the contrary.” 

In the afternoon, tired of being alone, she put on her things 
to go out, and met Mr. Thornycroft. Slie began a shower of 
questions. Where had he been ? What doing ? AVhere 
were all of them — Isaac — Mary Anne ? Hot a soul had she 
seen the whole day, except Richard. Mr. Thornycroft lifted 
his finger to command attention, as he answered her. 

It would be better that they should at once begin as they 
were to go on ; and she, his lady wife, must not expect to get 
a categorical account of daily movements. He never presum- 
ed to ask his sons how their da^^s were spent. Farmers — ■ 
farming a large tract of land — had to be in fift}’’ places at 
least in the course of the day ; here, and there, and every- 
where. This applied to himself as well as to his sons. W^hen 
Cj'ril came home he could attend upon her; he had nothing 
to do with the out-door work, and never would have. 

Hyde said you rode out this morning.” 

^^I had business at Dartfield : have just got home.” 

Dartfield ! where’s that ? ” 

A place five or six miles away : with a dreary road to it, 
too,” added the justice. 


208 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Won’t you -walk with me?” slie pleaded, in the soft 
manner that had so attracted him before marriage. 

If jmu like. Let us go for a stroll on the heath.” 

Where is Mary Anne ? ” she inquired, as they went on. 

Mary Anne is your concern now, not mine. Has she not 
been with you ? ” 

I have not seen her at all to-day. When I got down — it 
was before ten — all tlie world seemed flown. I found Hichard. 
He took me over the rooms at the end of the passage ; to your 
bureau (he called the room that, as the French do), and to his 
chamber and Hyde’s, and to the place filled with their guns 
and things.” 

Tlie justice gave a sort of grin. That’s quite a come-out 
for Dick. Showing you his chamber ! You must have won 
his heart.” 

My lady’s private opinion was that she had not won it ; but 
she did not say so. Gracefully twitching up her expensive 
robe, lest it should gather harm in its contact with the 
common, she tripped on, and they reached tlie heath. Mr. 
Thornycroft proposed to make calls at the different houses in 
succession, beginning with Captain Copp’s. She heard him 
with a little shriek of dismay. It was not etiquette.” 

Etiquette ? ” responded the justice. 

I am but just married. It is their place to call on me 
first.” 

. Mr. Thornycroft laughed. Etiquette was about as much 
understood as Greek at Coastdown. Come along ! ” cried he, 
heartily. There’s the sailor and his wooden leg opening the 
door to welcome us.” 

The sailor was doing it in a sailorl}^ fashion, — flourishing 
his wooden leg, waving his glazed hat round and round, 
cheering and beckoning. The bride made a merit of neces- 
sity, and w^ent in. Here they had news of Mary Anne. Mrs. 
Copp, Mademoiselle Derode, and Miss Thornycroft had gone 
to Jutpoint by omnibus under Isaac’s convoy. 

And the women are coming back here to a tea-fight,” said 
the plain sea-captain ; cold mackerel and shrimps and hot 
cakes ; that she-pirate of ours is baking the cakes in the oven ; 
so you need not expect your daughter home, jastice.” 

Mr. Thornycroft nodded in answer. His daughter was 
welcome to stay. 

The dinner-party at the Eed Court that evening consisted 


SUPERSTITIOUS TALES. 


209 


of five. Its master and mistress, the two sons, and a stranger 
named Hopley from Dartfield, whom E/ichard brought in. He 
was not mucli of a gentleman, and noiie of them had dressed. 
My lady thought she was going in for a prosy sort of life — 
not exactly the one she had anticipated. 

Very much to her surprise she found the dinner-courses 
much augmented; quite a different dinner altogether from that 
which sh& had ordered. Boiled fowls, roast ducklings, tarts, 
ice-creams, maccaroni — all sorts of additions. My lady com- 
pressed her lips, and came to the conclusion that her orders 
had been misunderstood. There is more to be said yet about 
the dinners at the Bed Court Farm ; not for the especial 
benefit of the reader, he is requested to take notice, but 
because they bear upon the story. 

At its conclusion she left the gentlemen and sat alone at the 
open window of the drawing-room ; sat there until the shades 
of evening darkened ; the flowers on the lawn sent up their 
perfume, the evening star came twinkling out, the beautiful 
sea beyond the plateau lay calm and still. She supposed they 
had all gone out, or else were smoking in the dining-room. 
When Sinnett brought her a cup of tea, presenting it on a 
silver waiter, she said, in answer to an inquiry, that the 
gentlemen as a rule had not taken tea since the late Mrs. 
Thornj^croft’s time. Miss Thornycroft and her governess had 
it served for themselves, with Mr. Cyril when he was at home 
from his tutor’s. 

. That is it,” muttered my lady to herself, as Sinnett left 
the room. Since their mother’s death there has been no one 
to enforce order in the house and they have had the run like 
wdld animals. It’s not likely they would care to be with the 
girl and that soft French governess.” 

It was dull, sitting there alone, and she wound an Indian 
shawl round her shoulders, went out across the lawn, and 
crossed the railings to the banned plateau. 

It was very dreary. ■ Hot a soul was in sight ; the landscape 
lay still and grey, the sea dull and silent. A mist seemed to 
have come on. This plateau, bare in places, was a small 
weary waste. Standing as near to the dangerous edge as she 
dared, my lady stretched her neck and saw the outline of the 
Half-moon underneath, surrounded by its waters, for the tide 
was nearly at its height. The projecting rocks right and left 
seemed to clip nearly round it, hiding it from the sea beyond. 
13 


210 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


The cliff, as she looked over, was almost perpendicular, its 
surface jagged, altogether dangerous to look upon, and she 
drew back with a slight shudder — drew back to iind Richard 
Thornycroft gazing at her from the plateau’s railings, on 
which he leaned. They met halfway. 

Were you watching me, Mr. Richard ? ” 

I was,” he gravely answered. And not daring to 
advance or make the least sound, lest I should startle you.” 

“ It is a dangerous spot. Mr. Thornycroft was saying so to 
me one day. But I had never been here, and I thought I 
would have a look at it ; it was lonely in-doors. So I came. 
Braving the ghost,” she added, with a slight laugh. 

Richard looked at her, as much as to ask what she knew, 
but did not speak. 

Last evening, when we were sitting in the drawing-room, 
the plateau in view, your sister’s governess plunged into tlie 
superstitious, telling me of a ‘ revenant ’ that appears. I had 
heard somewhat of it before. She thinks you believe in it.” 

Richard Thornycroft extended his hand to help her over the 
railings. Revenant, or no revenant, I would very strongly 
advise you not to frequent the plateau at night,” he said, as 
they walked on to the house. Do not be tempted to risk the 
danger.” 

Are you advising me against the ghostly danger or the 
tangible ? ” 

“ The tangible.” 

What is the other tale ? What gave rise to this super- 
stition ? ” 

Richard Thornycroft did not answer. He piloted her in- 
doors as far as the drawing-room, all in silence. The room was 
so dusk now that she could scarcely see the outline of the 
furniture. 

“Will you not tell it me, Mr. Richard? Mademoiselle’s 
was but a lame tale.” 

“ What was mademoiselle’s tale ? ” 

“ That she saw a sliadowy figure on the plateau, which dis- 
appeared almost as she looked at it. You gave her some 
explanation about a murderer that came again as a revenant, 
and she had lived in dread of seeing it ever since.” 

If my lady had expected Richard Thornycroft to laugh in 
answer to her laugh, she was entirely mistaken ; his face 
remained stern, sad, solemn. 


SUPERSTITIOUS TALES. 


211 


cannot tell you anything, Lady Ellis, that you might 
not hear from any soul at Coastdown,” he said presently, 

People, however, don’t much care to talk of this.” 

''Why don’t they?” 

Pichard lifted his dark eyebrows. " I scarcely know : a feel- 
ing undoubtedly exists against doing so. What is it you wish 
to hear ? ” 

"All the story, from beginning to end. Was there a 
murder ? ” 

" Yes ; it took place on the plateau. I can give you no 
particulars, I was but a little fellow at the time, except that 
the man who committed the deed hung himself before the 
night was out. The superstition obtaining is, that he does 
not rest quietly in his unconsecrated grave, and comes abroad 
at times to haunt the plateau, especially the spot where the 
deed was done.” 

" And that spot ? ” 

Pichard extended his hand and pointed to the edge as 
nearly as possible in a line with the window. 

" It was there ; just above the place they call the Half- 
moon. The figure appears on the brink, and stands there 
looking out over the sea. I should have said is reported to 
appear,” he corrected himself. 

" Did you ever see it yourself ? ” 

" I cannot tell you.” 

" Hot tell me ! ” 

"I have undoubtedly seen a figure hovering there; hut 
whether ghostly or human it has never given me time to ascer- 
tain. Before I could well cross the railings even, it is gone.” 

" Gone where ? ” 

" I never could detect where. And to tell you the truth, I 
have thought it strange.” 

" Have you seen it many times ? ” 

" Three or four.” 

He was standing close against the side of the window as he 
spoke, his profile stern as ever, distinct in the nearly faded 
light. My lady sat and watched him. 

" The superstition has caused an accident or two,” he re- 
sumed. " A poor coastguard-man was on his beat there one 
moonlight night and discerned a figure coming towards him 
walking on the brink of the cliff, as he was. What he saw to 
induce him to take it for the apparition, or to impart fear, was 


212 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


never explained. Witli a wild cry he either leaped from the 
cliff in his fright or fell from it.^^ 

Was he killed on the spot ? ” 

So to say. He lived but a few minutes after help came : 
the tide was up, and they had to get to him in boats : just long 
enough to say some nearly incoherent words, to the effect of 
what I have told you. A night or two after that a man, liv- 
ing in the village, went on the plateau looking for the ghost, 
as was supposed, and lie managed to miss his footing, fell over, 
and was killed. It was then that my father had the railings 
put ; almost a superfluous caution, as it turned out, for the im- 
pression made on the neighborhood by these two accidents was 
so great, and the plateau became so associated in men’s minds 
with so much horror, that I think nobody would go on it at 
night unless compelled.” 

“ Lest they should see three ghosts instead of one,” inter- 
rupted a light, careless voice at the back of the room. My 
lady started, Richard turned. 

It came from Isaac Thornycroft. He had come in unheard, 
the door was but half closed, and gathered the sense of what 
was passing. 

“ Quite an appropriate atmosphere for ghostly stories,” he 
said ; you are all in the dark here. Shall I ring for 
lights ? ” 

Hot yet,” interposed my lady, hastily ; I want to hear 
more.” 

“ There’s no more to hear,” said Richard. 

“ Yes there is. You cannot think how this interests me, 
Mr. Richard ; but I want to know — I want to know what was 
the cause of the murder. Can^t you tell me ? ” 

Isaac Thornycroft had perched himself on the music-stool, 
his fair, gay, open face a very contrast just now to his brother’s 
grave one. In the uncertain light he fancied that my lady 
looked to him with the last question, as if in appeal, and he 
answered it. 

“ Richard can tell it if he likes.” 

But it seemed that Richard did not like. He had said the 
neighborhood cared not to speak of this ; most certainly he 
did not. It was remembered afterwards, when years had 
passed ; and the strange fact was regarded as some subtle in- 
stinct lying far beyond the ken of man. But there was my 
lady casting her exacting looks towards him. 


SUPERSTITIOUS TALES. 


213 


They were two broth ers, the disputants, and the cause was 
said to be jealousy. Both loved the same woman, and she 
played them off one on the other. Hence the murder. Had I 
been the Hemesis I should have slain the woman after them.’’ 

Brothers ! ” repeated Lady Ellis. It was a dreadful 
thing.” 

Bichard, quitting his place by the window, left the room. 
Isaac, who had been softly humming a tune to himself, 
brought it to a close. A broad smile sat on his face : it ap- 
peared evident to my lady that the superstition was regarded 
by him as fun rather than otherwise. She fell into thought. 

You do not believe in the ghost, Mr. Isaac?” 

I don’t say that. I do not fear it.” 

“ Did you ever see it ? ” 

‘‘ Hever so much as its shadow ; but it is currently believed, 
you know, that some people are born without the gift of seeing 
ghosts.” 

He laughed a merry laugh. My lady resumed in a low 
tone. 

Is it not thought that your mother feared it ? That it — 
it helped to kill her ? ” 

As if by magic, changed the mood of Isaac Thornj^croft. 
He rose from the stool, and stood for a moment at the window 
in the faint rays of the light ; his face was little less dark 
than his brother’s, his voice as stern. 

By yoiir leave, madam, wo will not bring my mother’s 
name up in connection with this subject.” 

I beg your pardon ; but — there is one thing I should like 
to ask you. Do not look upon me as a stranger, but as one of 
yourselves from henceforth ; come here, I hope, to make life 
pleasanter to all of us,” she continued, in her sweetest tones. 
“ Those rooms at the end of the house, with the high walls on 
either side — is there any superstition connected with them ? ” 

Isaac Thornycroft simply stared at her. 

I cannot tell tuhy I fancy it. To-day when Mr. Bichard 
was shewing me those rooms, the thought struck me that the 
superstition said to obtain at the Bed Court Farm must be 
connected with them.” 

‘^Who says that superstition obtains at the Bed Court 
Farm ? ” questioned Isaac sharply. 

I seem to have gathered that impression from one or 
another.” 


214 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


^^Then I should think, for your own peace of mind, you 
had better ungather it — if you will allow me to coin a word, 
he answered. ‘‘The superstition of the plateau does not ex- 
tend to the E,ed Court.” 

She gave a slight sniff. “ Those rooms looked dull enough 
for it. And your brother — your strong, stern, resolute brother 
— confessed to feeling so lonely in them that he had Hyde to 
sleep in the chamber near him. There’s not so much space 
between them and the plateau.” 

Isaac turned from the window and faced her ; voice, eye, 
face resolute as Hichard’s. 

“ Mrs. Thornycroft — or Lady Ellis, whichever it may please 
you to be called — let me say a word of advice to you in all 
kindness. Forget these things; do not allow yourself to 
recur to them. For your own sake I would warn you never 
to go on to the plateau after daylight ; the edge is more 
treacherous than you imagine ; and your roving there could 
not be meet or pleasant. As to the rooms you speak of, there 
is no superstition attaching to them that I am aware of ; but 
there may be otlier reasons to render it inexpedient for ladies 
to enter them. They belong to me and my brother; to my 
father also, when he chooses to enter; and we like to know 
that they are private to us. Shall I ring for lights now ? ” he 
concluded, as he turned to quit the room. 

“ Yes, please. I wonder where Mr. Thornycroft can be ?” 

“Probably at the Mermaid,” he stayed to say. 

“ At the Mermaid ? Do you mean the public-house ? ” 

“Yes. A smoking bout takes place in its best parlor 
occasionally. My father, Mr. Southall, Captain Copp, Dan- 
gerfield the superintendent of the coastguard, old Connaught, 
and a few other gentlemen, meet there.” 

“ Oh ! ” she answered. “ Where are you going ? ” 

“ To fetch my sister from Mrs. Copp’s.” 

In the short interval that elapsed before the appearance of 
the lights, my lady took a rapid survey of matters in her 
mind. The conclusion she arrived at was, that there were 
some items of the recent conversation altogether curious ; 
that a certain mysterious atmosphere enveloped the present as 
well as the past ; not the least of which was Richard Thorny- 
croft’s manner, and his too evident faith in mystery. Take it 
for all in all, the most incomprehensible place she had ever 
come in contact with was the Red Court Farm. 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 215 


CHAPTEE XV. 

THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 

My lady was up betimes in the morning. Eemembering 
the previous day’s dinner, she went to seek the cook, intending 
to come down upon her with a reprimand. The servants were 
onl}^ just rising from breakfast, wliich alforded my lady an 
opportunity of seeing the stjde of that meal as served in the 
kitchen of the Eed Court Farm. 

Tea and coffee; part of a ham, cold; toasted bacon, hot; 
eggs boiled ; watercress and radishes ; a raised pie ; cold beef ; 
shrimps ; hot roll ; toast and butter. The sight of all this so 
completely took Lady Ellis aback, that she could only stare 
and wonder. 

Is that your usual breakfast table ? ” she asked of the 
cook when the rest had left the kitchen. 

Yes, my lady.” 

By whose permission ? ” 

By— I don’t understand,” said the cook, a stolid sort of 
wmman in ordinarj^, with a placid face, though very great in 
her own department. 

“ Who is it that allows all this ? ” 

Still the woman did not quite comprehend. The scale of 
living at the Eed Court Farm was so profuse, that the servants 
in point of fact could eat what they pleased. 

Sometimes the eatables is varied, my lady.” 

But — does Mr. Thornycroft know of this extravagance 
going on ? Is he aware that you sit down to such a break- 
fast ? ” 

Cook could not say. He did not trouble* himself about the 
matter. Yes, now she remembered, the justice had come in 
when they were at breakfast and other meals. 

Who has been the manager here ? — wdio has had the order- 
ing of things ?” inquired my lady, in a suppressed passion. 

Sinnett, chiefly. Once in a w^’ay the justice would give 
the orders. for dinner; a’most never,” was the replv. 

Compressing her lips, determining to suppress all this ere 
many days should be over, my lady quitted the subject for the 
one she had chiefly come to speak upon. 


216 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


And now, cook, what did you mean by flying in the face 
of my orders yesterday ? ’’ 

“ Did I fly in tlie face of ^em ?’’ asked the cook, simply. 

“ Did you ! I ordered a plain dinner — fish, a joint, and 
pudding. You sent up — I know not what in addition to it.’’ 

Oh, it’s them extra dishes you mean. Yes, my lady, 
Sinnett ordered ’em.” 

‘‘ Sinnett ! ” echoed my lady. Did you tell her I had 
desired the dinner should be plain — that I had fixed on it ? ” 
she asked after a pause. 

Sinnett said that sort of dinner wouldn’t do for the justice, 
and I was to send up a better one.” 

My lady bit her thin lips. Call Sinnett here, if you 
please.” 

Sinnett, about her work upstairs, came in obedience to the 
summons. She was a little, pale-faced, dark woman, of about 
thirtj^-five, given to wear smart caps. My lady attacked her 
quietly enough, but with a manner authoritative. 

‘5 1 beg you to understand at once that I am mistress here, 
Sinnett, and must be obeyed. When I give my orders wheth- 
er for dinner or for anything else, they are not to be improved 
upon.” 

‘‘My lady, in regard to adding to the dinner yesterday, I 
did it for the best ; not to act in opposition to you,” replied 
Sinnett, respectfully. “A good dinner has to be sent in 
always : those are the general orders. The young gentleman 
are so much in the habit of bringing in chance guests, that the 
contingency has to be provided for. I have known a party of 
eight or ten brought in before now, and we servants quite 
unaware of it until about to lay the cloth.” 

“ Yes,” said my lady, hastily, “ that might be all very well 
when there was no controlling mistress here. Mr. Thorny- 
croft’s sons appear to have been allowed great license in the 
house; of course it will be different now. ^Remember one 
thing, if you please, Sinnett, that .you do not interfere with 
my orders for dinner to-day.” 

“Ye ry well, m 3’ 1 a d y . ” 

Catching up her dress — a beautiful muslin that shone like 
gold — my lady turned to the larder, telling the cook to follow 
her. She had expected to see on the shelves the dishes that 
left the table yesterday ; but she saw very little. 

“ What has become of the ducks, cook ? Thej^ were 
scarcely touched at table.” 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 217 

We had ^em for our suppers, my lady.’^ 

My lady had a wrathful word on the tip of her tongue; 
she did not speak it. 

Ducks for supper in the kitchen ! Are jmu in the habit of 
taking your supper indiscriminately from the dinner dishes 
that come down ? 

“ Yes, my lady. Such is master’s orders.’’ 

It appears to me that a vast quantity of provisions must 
be consumed,” remarked my lady. 

Pretty Well,” was the cook’s answer. It’s a tolerable 
large family ; and Mr. Thornycroft has a good deal given 
away.” 

Provisions ? ” 

He do ; he’s a downright good man, my lady. Hot a 
morning passes, but some poor family or other from the vil- 
lage comes up and carries home what’s not wanted here.” 

“ I wonder you don’t have them up at night as well,” said 
my lady, in sarcasm. 

The cook took it literally. 

“ That’s one of the few things not allowed at the Red Court 
Farm. Mr. Thornycroft won’t have people coming here at 
night : and for the matter of that,” added the wmnian, “they’d 
not care to come by the plateau after dark. — About to-day’s 
dinner, my lady ? ” 

Yes ; about to-day’s dinner. As if in aggravation of the 
powers that had been, my lady ordered soles, a piece of roast 
beef, the tart that had not been cut yesterday, and the re- 
mainder of the lemon cream. 

As she went sailing away, the cook returned into the 
kitchen to Sinnett. The woman was really perplexed. 

“I sa3", Sinnett, here’s a start! A piece of ribs of beef, 
and notliing else. What’s to be done ? ” 

“ Send it up,” quietly replied Sinnett. 

“ But what on earth will the justice and the young masters 
say ? ” 

“We shall see. I wash my hands of interfering. Exactly 
what she has ordered, cook, and no more, mind : she and the 
master must settle it between them.” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft had hoped she “ should not die of 
it.” Of that there was little chance ; but that the girl had 
received a great blow, there was no disputing. Mr. Thorny- 
croft had said a word to her that morning after breakfast in 


21S 


THE RED COURT FAlRM. 


liis authoritative manner, to remind her that she was not to 
run wild, now there was some one at home to be her friend, 
mother, companion. Smarting under the sense of wrongs that 
in her limited experience, her ignorance of the woes of the 
world, she believed had never fallen on anybody’s head before, 
Mary Anne when left alone burst into a flood of tears ; and 
Isaac surprised her in them. Half in vexation, half in pride, 
she dried them hastily. Isaac drew her before him, and stood 
holding her hands in his, looking down gravely into her face. 

What did you promise me, Mary Anne ? ” 

Ho answer. 

“That you would, for a time at least, make the best of 
things. That you would try the new rule before rebelling 
against it.” 

“ But I can’t. It is too hard, Isaac. Papa’s beginning to 
interfere now.” 

“ Interfere ! Is that the right word to use ? ” 

She looked down, pouting her pretty lips. It was a good 
sign, as Isaac knew. 

“ There was no harm in my walking to Mrs. Copp’s after 
breakfast yesterday ; or in my staying there \ or in my going 
with you to Jutpoint.” 

“ Did papa say there was harm ? ” 

“ He told me I was not to run wild now. He told me that 
I had a” — the poor chest heaved piteously — “a mother. A 
mother to control me ! ” 

“ Well ! ” said Isaac. 

“ She is not my mother — I will never call her so. Oh, 
Isaac ! why can’t the old days come back again, when mad- 
emoiselle was here ? ” 

“ Hush ! don’t cry. Pichard or she may be coming in. 
There ; be your own calm self, while I say a word to you. 
Listen. This calamity has been 

“There!” she interrupted. “You say yourself it is a ca- 
lamity.” 

“ I have never thought it anything else; but it cannot be 
averted- now, and therefore nothing remains but to try and 
lighten it. It has been brought about by you ; by you alone, 
Mary Anne ; and if I revert to that fact for a moment, my 
dear, it is not to pain you, but to draw an inference from it for 
tlie future. Do not rebel at first to tlie control of my lady. 
It would be unjust, ungracious, altogether wrong ; it might 


4 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 219 

lead to further trouble for you, we know not of what sort. 
Promise me/’ he added, kissing her lips, ^Hhat you will not be 
the one to make first mischief. It is for your own good that I 
urge it.” 

Her better judgment came to her, and she gave Isaac a 
little nod in answer. 

My lad}^ reaped the benefit of this lecture. Coming in from 
her somewhat unsatisfactory visit to the cook, she found the 
jmung lady dutifully practising the Moonlight sonata. My 
lady looked about the room, as if by good luck she might find 
something to avert weariness. Miss Thoruycroft had hoped 
she should not die of her ; my lady was beginning to hope 
she should not die of ennui. 

Do you never have any books here ? Hovels ? ” 

Sometimes,” replied Mar}^ Anne, turning round to speak. 

We get them from the library at Jutpoint. There are some 
books upstairs in the book-case that used to be mamma’s — 
Walter Scott’s, and Dickens’s, and others.” 

The Moonlight sonata went on again. My lady, who had 
no soul for music, thought it the most wofully dull piece she 
had ever listened to. She sat inert on the sofa. Life — this 
life at the Red Court Farm — was already looking indescribably 
drearj^ And she had pictured it as a second Utopia! It is 
ever so ; when anticipation becomes lost in possession^ romance 
and desire are alike gone. 

“ How long has Sinnett lived here ? ” she suddenly asked, 
again interrupting Miss Thorn ycroft. 

Ever so long,” was the young lady’s reply. She came 
just before mamma died.” 

What are her precise functions here ? What does she caU 
herself? ” 

We don’t call her anything in particular. She is a sort of 
general servant, overlooking everything. She is housekeeper 
and manager.” 

Ah ! she has taken a great deal of authority on herself, I 
can see.” 

Has she?” replied Mary Anne. I have heard papa 
say she is one of the best servants we ever had ; thoroughly 
capable.” 

^ My lady gave her head a little defiant nod ; and relapsed 
into silence and ennui. 

Somehow the morning was got through. In the afternoon 


220 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


they set out to walk to the heath ; it was rather late, for my 
lady, lying on the sofa in her bedroom, dropped off to sleep 
after luncheon. Tlie dinner hour had been postponed to eight 
in the evening in consequence of a message from Mr. Thorny- 
croft. 

Winding round the churchyard, Mary Anne stood a moment 
and looked over the dwarf quickset hedge, on that side not 
much higher than her knee. My lady observed that her 
hands were clasped for a moment, that her lips moved. 

What are you doing, Mary Anne ? 

I never like to go by mamma’s grave without staying a 
moment to look at it, and to say a word or two of prayer,” 
was the simple answer. 

My Lady laughed, not kindly. “ That comes of having a 
Homan Catholic governess.” 

“Does it!” answered the girl quietly, indignant at the 
laugh. “ Mademoiselle happens to be a Protestant. I did 
not learn it from her, or from any one j it comes from my 
heart.” 

Turning abruptly on the heath, Mary Anne saw Mademoi- 
selle D erode coming towards them, and sprung off to meet her 
with a glad step. 

Disappointment was in store for my lady’s private dream of 
keeping Miss Derode as governess. Mademoiselle was then 
on her way to the Red Court to tell them she was leaving for 
France in two days. . 

“ You cannot go,” said Mary Anne, with the decisively 
authoritative manner peculiar to the Thornycrofts. “^You 
must come and spend some weeks with me at the Red Court.” 

Mademoiselle shook her little brown head. It was not 
possible, she said ; happy as she could be at the Red Court ; 
much as she would liave liked to stay again with her dear 
Miss Mary Anne. Her mother wanted her, and she must go. 

Turning about and about, they paced the heath while she 
repeated the substance of her mother’s letter. Madame, said 
she, was suffering from a cold, from the separation, from lone- 
liness, and had written for her. The Champs Elysees had no 
charms without her dear daughter ; the toilettes w^ere misera- 
ble ; the playing children hustled her,;their bonnes were not 
polite. Yirginie must return the very first hour it would be 
convenient to do so. The pot-au-feu got burnt, the apparte- 
ment smoked ; madame had been so long en pension that she 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 


221 


had forgotten how to manage things ; never clever at house- 
hold affairs, the craft of her hand appeared to have gone from 
her utterly. She had not had a dinner, so to say, since 
Virginie left ; she had not slept one whole night. While 
Monsieur and Madame — her pupiFs parents — had been away 
on their wedding tour, she had said nothing of this, but now 
that they were home again she would no longer keep silence. 
Virginie must come; and her best prayers would be upon her 
on the journey. 

A sort of mocking smile, covered on the instant by a sweet 
word, crossed my ladj^’s lips. 

It was all very well,^^ she said, Juft what a good mother 
would write ; but mademoiselle must wite back, and explain 
that she was wanted yet for some weeks at the E-ed Court 
Farm.^’ 

I cannot,” said mademoiselle ; I wish I could. Miladi is 
very good to invite me ; but my mother is my mother.” 

^Wou left your mother for seven years ; she did well then.” 

But, yes; that was different. Miladi can picture it. We 
have our menage now.” 

“I have set my heart upon your coming to us, made- 
moiselle,” was miladFs rejoinder, showing for a moment her 
white teeth. 

I should not need the pressing, if I could come,” was the 
simple answer. It is a holiday to me now to be at the Bed 
Court Farm ; but some things are practicable and others are 
not practicable, as miladi knows.” 

And the poor little governess in the cause of her mother 
was hard as adamant. They walked about until my lady’s 
legs were tired, and then prepared to return. 

Of course you will come back with us, and dine for the 
last time ? ” said Mary Anne. 

On any other occasion m}^ lady might have interposed with 
an intimation that Mary Anne Thornycroft had no longer 
licence to invite whom she pleased to the table of the Bed 
Court Farm. Without waiting for her to second the invita- 
tion, mademoiselle at once accepted it. 

For the last time,” she repeated ; ‘‘ I shall be making my 
baggage to-morrow.”^. 

My lady did not change her dress for dinner. The odds and 
ends of what we are pleased to call full dinner-dress did not 
seem to be appreciated at the Bed Court. Yesterday Bichard 


222 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


and Isaac had sat down in their velveteen clothes. A moment 
before dinner Mr. Thornycroft came into the drawing-room, 
and said his sons had brought in two or three friends. My 
lady, meeting them in the hall, stared at their appearance and 
number. 

What is it ? who are they ? ” she whispered to Mary 
Anne. 

“ Oh, it is only one of their impromptu dinner parties,’’ 
carelessly replied Mary Anne. I guessed they were think- 
ing of it by their delaying the dinner. They have supper 
parties instead sometimes.” 

My lady thought she had never seen so rough a dinner party 
in her life, in the matter of dress. Richard and Isaac wore 
thin light clothes, loose and easy ; the strangers’ costume was, 
to say the least of it, varied. Old Connaught, temporarily 
abroad again, was wrapped in a suit of grey flannel ; the su- 
perintendent of the coast-guard wnre brown ; and Captain 
Copp had arrived in a pea-jacket. Mary Anne shook hands 
with them all ; Miss Derode chattered ; and Mr. Thornycroft 
introduced the superintendent by name to his wife — Mr. 
Dangerfield. 

“Only six to-day,” whispered Mary Anne to her step- 
mother. “ Sometimes they have a dozen.” 

Quite enough for the fare provided. Before Mr. Thorny- 
croft began to help the soles, he looked everywhere for a 
second dish — on the table, on the sideboard, on the dumb 
waiter. “ There’s more fish than this, Sinnett ? ” he ex- 
claimed, hastily. 

“ Ko, sir. That’s all.” 

Mr. Thornycroft stared his servants severally in the face, as 
if the fault were theirs. Three of them were in waiting: 
Sinnett, a maid, and Hyde. He then applied himself to the 
helping of the fish, rud, by dint of contrivance, managed to 
make it go round. 

Well and good. Some ribs of beef came on next, fortunate- 
ly a large piece. Mr. Thornycroft let it get cold before him ; 
he could not imagine what the hindrance meant. Presently it 
struck him that the three servants stood in ther places waiting 
for the meat to be served. The guests waited. 

“ Where are the other things, Hyde ? ” 

“ There’s only that, sir.” 

The justice looked up the table and down the table; never 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 223 

in his whole life had he felt ashamed of his hospitality until 
now. But by this time the curious aspect of affairs had pene- 
trated to Bicliard. 

Is this all jmu have to give us for dinner ? ” he asked of 
Sinnett, in his deep, stern tones ; and he did not think it nec- 
essary to lower his voice. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

This ! That piece of beef ? ” 

There’s nothing else, sir.” 

^^By whose management? — by whose fault? Speak, wo- 
man.” 

“ My lady gave the orders, sir.” 

Bichard turned his dark face on my lady, as if demanding 
whether Sinnett was not telling a lie ; and Mr. Thornycroft 
began to cut the beef as fast as he could cut it. 

“I did not anticipate that we should have friends with us,” 
murmured the new mistress. She felt truly uncomfortable, 
really sorry for the contretemps; all eyes were turned upon 
her, following the dark condemning ones of Bichard. 

We must make the best of our beef ; there are misfortunes 
at sea,” said Isaac, his good-natured voice breaking the 
silence. You will judge of our appetites better when you 
get more us^to us,” he added to my lady with a kind smile. 

I shouldtnink there is worse misfortunes at sea,” observed 
Captain Copp, forgetting his grammar in his wish to smooth 
the unpleasantness. “ Bless and save my wooden leg ! if us 
sailors had such a glorious piece of beef to sit down to of a 
day on the long voyages, we should not hear quite so much of 
hardships. I remember once — it was the very voyage before 
the one when I saw that sea-serpent in the Pacific — our tins 
of preserved meat turned bad, and an awful gale we met 
washed away our live stock. Ah, you should have been with 
us then, Mr. Bichard; you’d never despise a piece of prime 
beef again.” 

Bichard vouchsafed no answer : he had been thoroughly 
vexed. Captain Copp, seated at my lady’s right hand, asked 
her to take wine with him, and then took it with the table 
generally. 

My lady got away as soon as she could: hardly knowing 
whetlier to resent the advent of the visitors, the free and easy 
hospitality that appeared to prevail at the Bed Court, or her 
own mistake in not having provided better. With that dark 


224 


THE RED COURT EA.RM. 


resolute face of power in her mind — Kichard’s — instjpct whis- 
pered her that it would not answer to draw the reins too tiglit. 
At any rate, she felt uncomfortable at the table, and quitted 
it. 

Leaving Miss Thornycroft and mademoiselle to go where 
they pleased, she went up at once to her chamber : a roomy 
apartment facing the sea. By its side was a small dressing- 
room, or boudoir ; with a pleasant window to sit at on a sum- 
mer’s day. It was night now, but my lady threw up the 
window, and remained at it. A mist was arising out at sea : 
not much as yet. She was musing on the state of affairs. 
Had she made a mistake in coming to the Bed Court for life ? 
Early days as j^et to think so, but a doubt of it lay upon her 
spirit. 

The subdued tones of the piano underneath were echoing 
to the beautiful touch of Mademoiselle Derode ; the soft, light 
touch that she had not been able to impart to her pupil. 
Mary Anne Thornycroft’s playing, though clear, brilliant, and 
good, was, like herself firm and decisive. You never heard 
the low melodious music from her that charms the heart to 
sweet sadness, rather than wins the ear and the admiration. 

Suddenly, as my lady stood listening and musing, a figure, 
very dim and shadowy, appeared on the edge of the plateau, 
and she strained her eyes on it with a start. 

'Not of fear; she had no superstition in her hard composition, 
and all she felt was curiosity — surprise. Mademoiselle Derode 
might have given utterance to a faint scream, and scuttered 
away where she could not see the plateau, in dread belief that 
the ghost was walking. My lady had the good sense to know 
that a figure, shadowy by this light, might be very substantial 
by daylight. All in a moment she lost siglit of it. It ap- 
peared to be standing still on the plateau’s edge, whether look- 
ing this way or over the sea, her far sight, remarkably keen, 
could not tell her, but as she looked the figure disappeared. It 
was gone, so far as she could see ; certainly it did not w’alk 
either to the right or the left. For a brief instant my lady 
wondered whether it had fallen over the cliff — as the poor 
coastguard-man had once done. 

Footsteps underneath. Some one w\as crossing the garden, 
apparently having come from the direction of the plateau, and 
making for the solitary door in the dead wall at the unused 
end of the house ; the end that she had been warned could 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COERT. 225 

not welcome ladies. To her intense surprise she recognized 
her husband, but dressed differently from what he had been at 
dinner. The black frock coat (his usual attire) was replaced 
by one of common velveteen, the gaiters were buttoned over 
the pantaloons, the customary hat by a disreputable wide- 
awake. Where could he have been ? — when she had thought 
him busy with his guests ! 

The mist was extending to the land very rapidly ; my lady 
shut down the window in haste and descended the stairs. 
The drawing-room windows were open, and she rang the bell 
for them to be closed. In those few moments the mist had 
increased so greatly that she could not see halfwaj^ across the 
garden. It was almost like an instantaneous cloud of blight. 

Mr. Thorn^xroft has left the dining-room,’^ she observed 
to Hyde, as he was shutting the windows. Have the 
people gone ? ” 

^‘ Ho, my Lady. I have just taken in the pipes and 
spirits.” 

“ Pipes and spirits ! Do they smoke at these impromptu 
dinner gatherings — and drink spirits ? ” 

Generally,” answered Hyde. 

Put Mr. Tbornycroft is not with them ? I saw him out of 
doors.” 

Hyde, his windows and shutters closed, turned round to face 
her, and spoke with emphasis. 

The justice is in the dining-room, my lady. He does not 
quit it when he has friends with him.” 

Believing the man told her a lie, for .her own sight was 
perfectly reliable sight — at least it had been so hitherto — she 
determined to satisfy herself. Waiting until he had gone, she 
crossed the hall, opened the dining-room door an inch and 
peeped in. Hyde was right. There sat Mr. Thornj^croft in 
his place at the foot of the table, almost close to her, in the 
same dress he had worn at dinner, a long churchwarden’s pipe 
in his mouth, and a steaming glass of something hot before 
him. 


Wliat will you allow me for housekeeping, Mr. Thorny- 
croft ? ” she asked in the morning. 

Hothing.” 

Nothing ? ” 

14 


226 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Nothing,” repeated the justice in his firmest tone, decisive 
as Richard’s. She was taking her breakfast languidly in her 
room. It was eleven o’clock, but she had a headache, she 
said ; the truth being that my lady liked to lie in bed. Mr. 
Thorn jTToft, coming in, condoled w’ith her in his hearty man-^ 
ner, never believing but the plea w^as genuine — the straight- 
forward country gentleman would as soon have believed 
Captain Copp’s wooden leg to be a real one, as a headache 
false. He entered on the matter he came to speak of, the 
dinner of yesterday. Kindly enough, but very emphatically, 
he warned her that such a thing must not occur a second time. 
It had been altogether a mistake. 

Any money you may wish for yourself, for your own pur- 
poses, is yours heartily,” he resumed ; “but in the housekeep- 
ing 3^011 must not interfere. The cost is my care, and Sinnett 
sees to it : she has been in the house so long as to know per- 
fectlj’’ well how to provide. I would have given ten pounds 
out of my pocket rather than have had tliat happen last 
night,” added the justice, giving a flick to his trousers’ right- 
hand pocket in momentary irritation at the recollection. 

“ But to provide such dinners is most unreasonable.” she 
remonstrated. “It is only for the servants to eat. I don’t 
think you can have an idea of the extravagance that goes on 
in the kitchen.” 

“Pooh! Extravagance! I can afford it. The servants 
onl}^ eat what goes down from our table ; and what they can’t 
eat is given away to those \yho want food. It was mj’’ father’s 
plan before me, and-it is mine.” 

“ It is sinful waste,” retorted my lady. “ If you choose to 
sit down to an outrageously profuse table yourself, the servants 
ought not to follow suit.” 

“ What would ^’’ou have done with the superfluous vic- 
tuals ? ” demanded the justice. “Put up for auction of a 
morning and sold ? ” 

“ As you ask me what I w^ould have done, I will answer- 
do not provide them. The housekeeping is altogether on too 
liberal a scale.” 

Mr. Thorn^^croft, who had been looking from the window 
over the sea, Ijflng hot and clear and beautiful this morning, 
turned and stood before her j bis fair, handsome face grave, 
his towering form raised to its full height, his voice, as he 
spoke, impressive in its calm decision. 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 227 

^^Lady Ellis, understand one thing — that this is a matter 
you must not interfere in. The housekeeping at the E-ed 
Court Farm — that you are pleased to find cause of fault with 
— is an established rule ; so to say, an institution. It cannot 
be changed. Sinnett will conduct it as hitherto, without 
trouble to or interference from yourself. Whenever it does 
not please you to sit down to table, there are other rooms in 
which yon can order your dinner served.^^ 

And suppose I say that I must exert my right of author- 
ity — my privilege of controlling the dinners ? she rejoined, 
her voice getting just a little harsh with the opposition. 

You cannot say it. I am master of my own house and 
my own table.’^ 

You have made me the mistress ! ’’ 

Just so ; but not to alter the established usages.” 

Lady Ellis tapped her foot on the soft carpet. ^^Do you 
consider that there is any reason in keeping so large a 
table ? ” 

There may or may not be. My pleasure is that it shall 
be kept. My sons have been brought up to it ; they would 
not have it curtailed.” 

“ I think your sons have been brought up to a great deal 
that is unfitting. One would think they were lords.” 

Handsome, noble fellows ! ” aspirated the justice, with per- 
haps a little spice of aggravation. ‘‘There are not many 
lords that can match them.” 

My lady bit her thin lips, a sure sign of rising temper. 
“ It seems to me to be my duty, Mr. Thornycroft, exercising 
the authority you have vested in me by making me your wife, 
to control the extravagance hitherto running riot. Opposi- 
tion, ill-feeling, in the house will not be seemly.” 

“ Neither will I have it,” put in the justice. 

“ I do not see that it can be avoided. I give certain orders. 
Sinnett, acting under you, opposes them. What can the 
result be but unseemly contention ? How would you avoid it, 
I ask ? ” 

“ By going to live in one of the cottages on the heath, and 
leaving Isaac — I mean Bichard — master of Bed Court Farm.” 

He spoke promptly — like a man whose mind is fully made 
up. The prospect of living in a cottage on the heath nearly 
took my lady’s breath away. 

“ Mr. Thornycroft ! ” she passionately exclaimed, and then 


228 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


her tone changed to one of peevish remonstrance: why do 
you bring up impossibilities ? A cottage on the lieath ! ” 

Mr. Thornycroft brought down his hand, not in anger but 
emphasis, on the small breakfast table. 

“ Were the order of the Red Court upset by unnecessary 
interference on you part — were I to find that I could be no 
longer master of it without being subject to continual opposi- 
tion, I should surely quit it. If a cottage on the heath were 
distasteful to jmu I would take lodgings at Jutpoint.^^ 

Lady Ellis sipped her coffee. It did not appear safe to say 
more. A cottage on the heath, or lodgings at Jutpoint! 

“ I only wished to put a stop to unnecessary extravagance,” 
she said, in a tone of conciliation. 

No doubt. I give you credit for good motives, of course ; 
but these things must be left to me. The same gentleman 
who dined here yesterday evening are coming to supper this. 
I have made out the bill of fare myself, and given it to 
Sin nett.” 

Coming again to-night ! ” she could not help exclaiming. 

To atone for the shortcomings of yesterday’s dinner,” 
spoke the justice. I never had occasion to feel ashamed of 
my table before.” 

I cannot think what possible pleasure you can find in the 
society of such men,” she said, after a pause. Look at them, 
coming out to dinner in their rough coats ! ” 

Mr. Thornycroft laughed. ‘^We don’t go in often for 
evening dress at Coastdown. As to the pleasure, they have 
been in the habit of sitting at my table for some years, 
madam, and I enjoy the companionship.” 

I fancied you left them early ; I thought I saw you cross 
the garden, as if coming from the plateau,” she said, resolving 
to speak of the matter which had so puzzled her. 

“We did not leave the dining-room until eleven o’clock.” 
“Well — it was very strange. I was standing at this 
window, and certainly saw some one exactly like you ; the 
same figure, the same face ; but not in the same dress. He 
seemed to have on gaiters and a velveteen coat, and a low 
broad-brimmed hat, very ugly. What should you say it could 
have been ? ” 

“ I should say that you were dreaming.” 

“I was wide awake. It was just before that mist came 
on,” she added. 


THE NEW MISTRESS OF THE RED COURT. 229 


All, the fault must have lain in the mist. I have known 
it come as a mirage occasionally, bringing deception and con- 
fusion.’^ 

Djd he really mean it ? It seemed so, for there was 
seriousness on his face as he spoke. Quitting the room, he 
descended the stairs, and made his way to the fields. In the 
four-acre mead — as it was called in common parlance, on the 
farm — he came upon Bicbard watching the hay-makers. 
Richard wished him good morning ; abroad early, it was the 
first time he had seen his father that day. 

What was the failure, Dick ?” asked the justice. 

Fog,” shortly answered Richard. Couldn’t see the 
light.” 

Mr. Tliornycroft nodded. 

Are we to have a repetition, sir, of yesterday’s dinner 
table ? ” resumed Richard. If so, I think the sooner your 
wife is requested to take up her residence somewhere else, the 
better.” 

You will not have it again. Sinnett holds my orders, 
and my wife has been made aware she does. There’s no need 
for you to put ^^ourself out.” 

With the injunction, spoken rather testily, Mr. Thorn jxroft 
left him. But a little later, when he met Isaac, he voluntarily 
entered on the subject; hinting his vexation at the past, 
promising that it would never again occur, almost as if he 
were tendering an apology for the accident. 

I’m afraid I made a mistake, Ikey ; I’m afraid I made a 
mistake ; but I meant it for the best.” 

It was ever thus. To his second son Mr. Thornycroft’s 
behavior was somewhat different from what it was to his eldest. 
It could not be said that he paid him more deference : but it 
was to Isaac he generally spoke of business, when speaking was 
needed ; if an opinion was required, Isaac’s was sought in 
preference to Richard’s. It was just as though Isaac had 
been the eldest son. That Richard had brought this on him- 
self, by his assumption of authority, was quite probable : and 
the little preference seemed to spring from the justice involun- 


tarily. 

The evening supper took place, and the guests were consoled 
by the ample table for the scantiness of the previous dinner 
My lady was not invited to join it ; nothing appeared further 
from Mr. Thornycroft’s thoughts than to have ladies at table 


230 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


She spent a solitary sort of evening ; Mary Anne was at Mrs. 
Wilkinson’s, taking leave of Miss Derode. 

Was it, she asked herself, to go on like this always and 
always? Had she become the wife of Justice Thornycroft 
only to die of the dreary life at the Red Court Farm ? Let 
us give her her due. When she married him she did intend 
to do her duty as an honest woman, and send ridiculous flirta- 
tions, sucli as that carried on with Robert Lake, to the winds. 
But she did not expect to be done to death of ennui. 

A short while went on. Nearly open warfare set in between 
Mary Anne and her stepmother. To-day my lady would be 
harsh, exacting, almost cruel in her rule ; to-morrow the girl 
would be wholly neglected — suffered to run wild. Mr^Thorny- 
croft saw that things could not continue thus, and the refrain 
of the words he had spoken to Isaac beat ever on his brain, 
day by day bringing greater force to them : “I fear I made a 
mistake ; I fear I made a mistake.” 

One morning Mary Anne astonished the justice by appear- 
ing before him i^ his bureau, in what she was pleased to call 
the uncivilized rooms. He sat there with Mr. Hopley, of 
Dartfield, some account books before them. Her dress, a 
beautiful muslin with a raised blue spot, was torn out at 
the gathers and trailed behind her. My lady had done it 
in a passion. 

Holloa ! what do you do here ? ” cried the justice, 
emphatically; and Mr. Hopley went out whistling, with his 
hands in his pockets, and crossed over to stare at the idle 
dog-cart in the coach-house, as if to give privacy for the 
explanation. 

She had come with one of her tales of woe. She had come 
to beg and pray to be sent to school. What a change ! Mr. 
Thornycroft was nearly at his wits’ end. 

Ere the day was over, his wife brought a complaint to him 
on her own score : not altogether of Mary Anne. She simply 
said, incidentally, that ill-trained young lad}’- was getting quite 
beyond her control, and therefore, she must wash her hands of 
her. The complaint was of her own health ; it appeared to be 
failing her in a rather remarkable manner, certainly a sudden 
one. This was true. She had concluded that the air of 
Coastdown was inimical to her, and she wished it might be 
managed for her to live away — say Cheltenham, or some other 
healthy place. 


AT SCHOOL IN LONDON. 


231 


How eagerly Mr. ThornjTToffc caught at the suggestion, he 
felt afterwards half ashamed to think of. In matters involv- 
ing money he was alwa3"s liberal, and he at once named a 
handsome sum per month that she might enjoy at Chelten- 
ham, or anywhere else that pleased her. 


CHAPTEE XVL 

y AT SCHOOL IN LONDON. 

Two years have gone by, and it is June again. 

A good, substantial house in one oPthe western suburbs of 
the metropolis — Kensington. By the well-rubbed brass plate 
on the iron gate of the garden, and the lady’s name on it — 
^^Miss Jupp” — it may be taken for a boarding-school. In 
fact, it is one : a small select school (as so man}^ schools pro- 
claim themselves now ; but this really is such) ; and kept by 
Miss Jupp, once of Katterley. That is, by Miss Jupp and 
two of her sisters, but she wisely calls it by her own name 
singly, avoiding the ugly style of the plural. Miss Jupp’s 
establishment.” • 

Fortune changes with a great many of us; every day, 
every hour of our lives, some are going up, others down. 
When death removed old Mr. Jupp (an event that occurred 
almost close upon poor. Mrs. Lake’s), then his daughters 
found that they had not enough to get along in the world. 
Wisely taking time and circumstances by the forelock, the 
three elder ones/ Mary, Margaret, and Emma, removed to 
London, took a good house at Kensington, and by the help of 
influential friends very soon had pupils in it. Dorothy and 
Eose were married ; Louisa remained at Katterley with her 
widowed mother. They professed to take ten pupils only : 
once or twice the number had been increased to twelve ; the 
terms were high, but the teaching was good, and the arrange- 
ments were really first-class. It was with the Miss Jupps 
that Mary Anne Thorny croft had been placed. And she did 
not run away from them. 

Quite the contrary. The summer holidays haye just set ii;, 


232 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


and slie is to pro home for them ; ns she did the previous mid- 
summer; hut she is expressinpr a half wish, now as slie stands 
before Miss Margaret Jnpp, tliat she conld spend them where 
slie is, in London. Long and long ago has she grown reconcil- 
ed to the regularity of a school life, and to regard Miss Jupp’s 
as a second and happy home. She spent the first Christmas 
holidays with them ; the second Christmas (last) at Chelten- 
ham with her step-mother ; she and her brother Cyril. 

Lady Ellis (retaining still the name) is in very ill health 
now. Almost simultaneously with quitting the Red Court 
after her marriage, a grave inward disorder manifested itself. 
Symptoms of it indeed had been upon her for some time, even 
before leaving India; but — as is the case with many other 
symptoms — they had been entirely disregarded, their grave 
nature unsuspected. Instead of leading a gay life at the gay 
inland watering-place, flaunting her charms and her fashion in 
the eyes of other sojourners. Lady Ellis found herself compelled 
to live a very* quiet one. She has a small villa, an establish- 
ment of two servants only; and she does not wish for more. 
In heart, in nature, she is growing altered, and the refining, 
holy influence that very often — God be praised ! — changes the 
whole heart and spirit with a change which is not of this 
world, is coming over her. Two visits only has she paid to 
the Red Court Farm, staying about six weeks each time, and 
Mr. Thorn^croft goes to Cheltenham two or three times a year. 
Miss Thornycroft and her stepmother are civil to each other 
now, not to say friendly; and when she invited the jmung 
lad}’’ and her brother Cyril for the holidays last Christmas, 
they went. The previous midsummer they had spent together 
at Coastdown, it having been one of the periods of my lady’s 
two visits. Fortune had contrived w^ell for Lady Ellis, and 
her marriage with the wealthy master of the Red Court Farm 
ejiabled her to enjoy every substantial comfort in her hour of 
need. 

Two other young ladies connected in a degree with this his- 
tory are at Miss Jupp’s this evening; the rest of the pupils 
have left. One of the two w^e have met before, one not. 
They are in the room now, and you may look at them. All 
three, including Miss Thornycroft, are about the same age — 
between eighteen and nineteen. She, Mary Anne, is the 
same tall, stately, fair, handsome, and (it must be owned) 
haughty girl that you knew before ; the fine face is resolute 


AT SCHOOL IN LONDON. 


283 


as ever, the cold blue eyes as honest and nn com promising. 
She had been allowed to dress as expensively at Miss Jnpp’s 
as her inclination leads: to-day she wears a ricli pale-blne 
silk; blue ribbons are falling from her fair hair. She is stand- 
ing doing nothing : but sitting in a chair by her side, toying 
with a bit of fancy-w^ork, is a plain, dark, merry-looking girl 
in a good useful nut-brown silk, Susan Hunter. She is the 
sister of Hobert Hunter, several years his junior, and has been 
sent up from Yorkshire by her aunt, with Vhom she lives, to 
have two 5"ears of ‘-finish’’ at a London school. Accident — 
not their having once knowm something of her brother — led to 
the school fixed on being Miss Jupp’s. And now for the last. 

In a grey alpaca dress, trimmed with a little ribbon velvet 
of the same hue, her head bent patiently over a pile of draw- 
ings that she is touching up, sits the third. A very different 
footing in the school, hers, from that of the other two ; they 
pay the high, full terms ; she pays nothing, but w^orks out her 
board with industry. Have you forgotten that pale, gentle 
face, one of the sweetest both in feature and expression ever 
looked upon, with the fine silky chestnut hair modestly braided 
round it, and the soft brown eyes that take all the best feeling 
of a genuine heart bj^ storm ? The weary look telling of 
incessant industry, the pile of w^ork that she does not look up 
from, the cheap holiday-dress (her best) costing little, all pro- 
claim sufiSciently her dependent position in the house — a slight, 
graceful girl of middle height, with a sort of drooping look in 
her figure, as if she w-ere, and had been all her life, in the 
habit of being pushed into the background ? 

It is Anne Chester. Her life since we saw her has been 
like that of a dray horse. Mrs. Chester placed her at an 
inferior school as pupil-teacher, where she had many kinds of 
things to do, and the mistress’s own children to take care of 
in the holidays. For a year and a half she stayed at it, doing 
her best patientTJ'’, and then the Miss Jupps took her. She 
has to work verj^ much still, and her health is failing. Cap- 
tain and Mrs. Copp have invited her to Coastdown for a 
change, and she goes down to-morrow with Miss Thornycroft. 
Miss Hunter spends the holidays at school. 

Mrs. Chester ? Mrs. Chester quitted Guild, to set up a 
fashionable boarding-house in London. It did not answer; 
the mass of people remained cruelly indifferent to its 
advertisements ; and the few who tried it ran away and never 


234 


THE RED COERT FARM. 


paid her. She then removed to Paris, where (as some friends 
assured her) a good English boarding-house was much 
wanted ; and, if her own reports are to be trusted, she is 
likely to do pretty well at it. 

There remains only one more person to mention of those we 
formerly knew; and that is Eobert Hunter. Putting his 
shoulder to the wheel in earnest, as only a resolute and capable 
man can put it ; I had almost said as one only who has some 
expiation to work *out ; his days are spent in hard industry. 
He is the practical energetic man of business ; never spending 
a moment in waste, never willingly allowing himself recrea- 
tion. The past folly, the past idleness of that time, not so 
very long gone by, recurs to his memory less frequently than 
it used, but ever with the feeling of a nightmare. He is still 
wdth the same firm, earning a liberal salary. Since a day or 
two only has he been in London, but there’s some talk ot his 
remaining in it now. Hothing seems to be further from his 
thoughts than any sort of pleasure : it would seem that he 
has one vocation alone in life — work. 

These three young ladies were going out this afternoon. 
To a grand house, too : Mrs. Macpherson’s. The professor, 
good simple plan, had been content, socially speaking, with a 
shed on the top "of Aldgate pump : not so madam. As the 
professor rose more and more into distinction, she rose ; and 
the residence in Bloomsbury was exchanged for a place at 
Kensington. Possibly the calling occasionally on the Miss 
Jupps, had put it into her head. A house as grand as its 
name in the matter of decoration ; but not of undue size : 
Mrs. Macpherson had good common sense, and generally 
exercised it. A dazzling white front with a pillared portico 
and much ornamentation outside and in — “ Majestic Villa.” 
The professor had wanted to change the name, but madam 
preferred to retain it. It was not very far from Miss J upp’s, 
and these young ladies were going there to spend the evening. 

In all the glory of her large room, with its decorations of 
wdiite and gold, its mirrors, its glittering cabinets, its soft 
luxurious carpet, its chairs of delicate green velvet, sat Mrs. 
Macpherson, waiting for these young guests. In all her own 
glory of dress, it may be said, for that was not less conspicuous 
than of yore, and that of to-day looked just as if it were 
chosen to accord with the hangings — a green satin robe with 
gold leaves for trimmings, and a cap that could not be seen 


AT SCHOOL IN LONDON. 


235 


for sprays and spangles. In her sense of politeness — and she 
possessed an old-fashioned stock of it — Mrs. Macpherson had 
dressed herself betimes^ not to leave the young ladies alone 
after they came. Thus, when they arrived, under the convoy 
of Miss Emma Jupp, who left them at the door, Mrs. Mac- 
pherson was ready to receive them. 

It was the first time they had been there for many weeks ; 
for the professor had been abroad on a tour in connection with 
some of the ologies, as his wife expressed it, in which she had 
accompanied him. The result of this was, that Mrs. Mac- 
pherson had no end of Parisian novelties, in the shape of dress, 
to display to them in her chamber. 

I know what girls like,’^ she said, in her hearty manner, 
“ and that is, to look at new bonnets and mantles, and try ^em 
on.’^ 

But Mary Anne Thornycroft — perhaps because she could 
indulge in such articles at will — cared not a jot for these 
attractions, and said she should go down to see the professor. 

He had some rooms at the back of the house, where his 
collection of scientific curiosities — to call things by a polite 
name — had been stowed. And here the professor, when not 
out, spent his time. Mary Anne quite loved the man, so 
simple-minded and yet great-minded at one and the same 
time, and never failed to penetrate to his rooms when occasion 
offered. Quickly wending her way through the passages, she 
opened the door softly. 

It was not very easy to distinguish clearly at first, what 
with the crowd of things darkening the windows, and the 
mass of objects generally. At a few yards’ distance, slightly 
bending over a sort of upright desk, as if writing something, 
stood a gentleman ; but certainly not the professor. His back 
was towards her ; he had evidently not heard her enter, and a 
faint flush of surprise dawned on Mary Anne’s face, for in 
that first moment she thought it was her brother Cyril. It 
was the same youthful, supple, slender figure ; the same wav- 
ing hair, of a dark auburn, clustering round the head above 
the collar of the coat. Altogether seen in this way, there was 
a certain resemblance ; and that was the first primary link in 
the chain that attracted Mary Anne to him. The door which 
she had left open, closed with a slight bang, and the gentleman 
spoke, without lifting his head. 

I have worked it out at last. You were right about its 
being less than the other.” 


236 


THE RED COERT FARM. 


Is Dr Macpherson not here ? ” 

He tamed sharply at the words, a pencil in his hand, sur- 
prise on his face. A good face ; for its old gay careless look 
had departed for ever, and the dark blue eyes — darker even 
than of yore — wore a serious gravity that never left them, a 
gravity born of remorse. The face was older than the figure, 
and not in the least like Cyril Thornycroft’s ; it looked fully 
its seven-and-twenty years — nay, looked nearer thirty ; but all 
its expression was merged in surprise. No wonder ; to see a 
beautiful girl in blue silk, with blue ribbons in her fair hair, 
standing there ; when he had only expected the professor, in 
his old threadbare coat and spectacles. It was Kobert Hunter. 

I beg your pardon,” he said, coming forward. Can I do 
anything for you ? ” 

^^I thought Dr. Macpherson w^as here. I came to see him.” 

Never losing her calm self-possession on any occasion, as so 
many young ladies do on no occasion at all. Miss Thornycroft 
stepped up to the side glass cases to examine the curiosities, 
talking as easily to him as though she had known him all her 
life. Without being in the least free, there was an openness 
of manner about her, an utter absence of tricks and affecta- 
tion, a straightforward independence, rather remarkable in a 
young lady. For Robert Hunter it possessed a singular 
charm. 

Before the professor came in, who had forgotten himself 
down in his cellar, where he had gone after a cherished speci- 
men in the frog line ; before Mr. Hunter had pointed out to 
her a quarter of the new acquisitions in the glass cases — 
animal, vegetable, and mineral — they knew all about each 
other : that he was Susan Hunter’s brother, and that she was 
Miss Thornycroft of Coastdown. At the mention of her 
name, a brief vision connected with the past floated across 
Robert Hunter’s brain — of a certain summer evening when he 
was returning to Guild with his poor young wife, and saw the 
back of a high open carriage bowding away from his sister’s 
gate, which he was told contained Mr. and Miss Thornycroft. 
Never since that had he heard the name or thought of the 
people. 

Do you know, when I came into the room just now, and 
you were standing with your back to me, I nearly took you 
for one of my brothers. At the back you are just like him.” 

Robert Hunter smiled slightly. “ And not in the face ? ” 


AT SCHOOL IN LONDON. 


237 


Not at all — except, perhaps, a little in the forehead. 
Cyril has hazel eyes and small features. The hair is exactly 
like his, the same color, and grows just as his does in front, 
leaving the forehead square. If you were to hide your face, 
showing only the top of the forehead and the hair, I should 
say you were Cyril. 

Tlie professor appeared, and they went into a more habit- 
able part of the house. Robert had not seen his sister since 
she was a little girl ; he had not seen Anna since they parted 
at Guild. It was altogether an acceptable meeting ; but he 
looked at Anna’s face somewhat anxiously. 

Have you been working very much, Anna ? ” he took 
occasion to ask, drawing her for a moment aside. 

I am always working very hard,” she answered, with her 
sweet smile of patient endurance. There is a great deal to 
be done in schools, you know ; but I am well off at Miss 
Jupp’s compared to what I was at the other place. They are 
very kind to me.” 

You liave a look upon you as if you felt tired always. It 
is a curious impression to draw though, perhaps, considering I 
have seen you but for ten minutes.” 

I do feel tired nearly always,” acknowledged Anne. 

The Miss Jupps think London does not agree with me. I 
am going to Coastdown for a change for the holidays ; I shall 
get better there.” 

He thought she would require a longer change than a few 
holiday weeks. Never in the old days had it struck him that 
Anna looked yV*a^7 ; but she certainly did now. 

“ And now, Robert Hunter, you’ll stay with us, as these 
young ladies are here ? ” said hospitable Mrs. Macpherson. 

He hesitated before replying. Very much indeed would he 
have liked to remain, but he had made an appointment with a 
gentleman. 

‘^Put it off,” said Mrs. Macpherson. 

There’s no time for that. Certainly — if I am not at the 
office when he comes, one of the partners would see him. 
But ” 

But what? ” asked the professor. Would not that be a 
solution of the difficulty ? ” 

A way out of the mess,” put in the professor’s wife. 

Mr. Hunter laughed. I was going to say that I have 
never put away any business for my own convenience since — 
since I took to it again.” 


238 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


The attraction, or whatever it might be, however, proved too 
strong for business this afternoon, and Robert Hunter re- 
mained at the professor’s. When he and Miss Thorn3"croft 
parted at night, it seemed that they had known each other for 
years. 

It was ver^" singular; a thing of rare occurrence. We have 
heard of this sudden mutual liking, the nameless affinity that 
draws one soul to another ; but believe me it is not yery fre- 
quent experience. The thought that crossed Robert Hunter’s 
mind that evening more than once was — I wish that girl was 
1113^ sister.” An3^ idea of another sort of attachment would be 
a very long while 3"et before it penetrated to him as even a 
possibility. 

In the evening, when they got home at an early hour — Miss 
Jupp had onl3^ given them until eight o’clock, for there was 
packing to do — Mary Anne Thorn3^croft went into a fever of 
indignation to think that no message had been left b3^ or from 
any of her brothers. 

^‘It is so fearfuri3^ careless of them ! That is just like my 
brothers. Do they expect we are to travel alone ? ” 

My dear, do not put yourself out,” said Miss Jupp. Two 
young ladies can travel alone very well. You will get there 
quite safely.” 

“ So far as that goes, ma’am, I could travel alone fearlessly 
to the end of the world,” spoke Mary Anne. ‘‘But that is 
not the question ; neither does it excuse their negligence. 
Ror all they know, I might have spent all my money, and 
have none to take me down.” 

Miss Emma Jupp laughed. “ They would suppose that wo 
should suppl3^ 3mu.” 

“Yes, Miss Emma, no doubt. But they had no business to 
send me word that one of them would be in London to-day to 
take charge of me home, unless ” 

The words were brought to a sudden stand-still by the 
opening of the door. One of the maids appeared at it to 
announce a guest. 

“ Mr. Isaac Tliorn3"croft.” 

There entered the same noble-looking young man, noble in 
his towering height and strength, that we knew two 3^ear^ago 
at Coastdown ; he came in with a smile on his bright face — on 
its fair features, in its blue e3’es. Miss Emma Jupp’s first 
tliought was, what a likeness he bore to his sister ; lier second 


AT SCHOOL IN LONDON. 


239 


that she had never in her whole life seen any one half so good- 
looking. It happened that she had never seen him before. 
Marj^ Anne began to reproach him for carelessn-ess. He 
received it all with the most ineffable good humor, the smile 
briglitening on his sunny face. 

know it is too late, quite wrong of me, but I missed the 
train at Jutpoint, and had to come by a later one. Which of 
these two young ladies is Miss Chester he added, turning 
to the two girls who stood together. I have a — a trifle for 
her from Captain Copp.’^ 

“ You sliall guess,^^ interposed Mary Anne. One of them 
is Anna Chester. How guess.” 

It was not difficult. Miss Hunter met his glance fearlessly 
in a merry spirit ; Anna blushed and let fall her eyes. Isaac 
Thornycroft smiled. 

This is Miss Chester.” 

It is all through your stupid shyness, Anna,” said Mary 
Anne in a cross tone. Which of course only increased her 
confusion. Isaac crossed the room, his eye^ bent on the sweet 
blushing face, as be held out the trifle ” forwarded by Cap- 
tain Copp. 

^WVili you accept it. Miss Chester? Captain Copp charged 
me to take particular care of it, and not to touch it myself.” 

It was a travelling wickered bottle, holding about a pint. 
Anna looked at it with curiosity, and Emma Jupp took it out 
of her hand. 

What can it be ? ” 

“Take out the cork and smell it,” suggested Mr. Isaac 
Thornycroft. 

Miss Emma did so; giving a strong sniff. ^^Dear me ! I 
think it is rum.” 

“ Eum-and-water,” corrected Isaac. “ Captain Copp begged 
me to assure Miss Chester that it was only half-and-half, she 
being a 3^oung lad}-". It was for her refreshment as she goes 
down to-morrow.” 

“ If thaCs not exactly like Sam Copp ! ” exclaimed Miss 
Jupp with some asperit}", while the laugh against Anna went 
round. “He will never acquire an idea bej’ond his old sea 
notions ; never. I remember what he was before his leg came 
off.” 

“He came all the way to Jutpoint in the omnibus after me 
when I had driven over, to make sure, I believe that Mrs, 


240 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Copp should not be privy to the transaction. It was through 
his injunctions as to tlie wicker bottle that I missed riiy train/^ 
concluded Isaac — Ins eyes, that were bent on Anna Chester, 
dancing with mirth. At whicli hers fell again. 

If all of us estimated people alike, especially in regard to 
that subtle matter of “liking” or “ disliking” on first impres- 
sion, what a curious world it would be! Miss Emma Jupp 
considered Isaac Thornycroft the best-looking, the most at- 
tractive man she had ever seen. Mary Anne Thornycroft on 
the contrary", was thinking the same of somebody else. 

“ I never saw anybody I liked half so much at first sight as 
Eobert Hunter,” she softly said to herself, as she laid her head 
on her pillow. 


CHAPTEE XVII. 

CAPTAIN COPP. 

Captain Copp was a true sailor, gifted with more good 
nature than common sense. On the rare occasion of receiving 
a young lady visitor under his roof, his hospitalitj^ and his 
heart alike ran riot. Anna Chester, the pretty, friendless girl 
whom he had heard of but never seen, was coming to him and 
his wife to be nursed into strength and health, and the captain 
anticipated the arrival as something to be made a fete of. 

A feast too, by appearances. It was a bright summer 
morning, with a fresh breeze blowing from the sea ; and the 
captain was abroad betimes with some flowing purple ribbons 
fastened round his glazed hat. Greatly to the grievance of 
Mrs. Copp : who had ventured to say that Anna was not a 
captured prize-ship, or a battle won, or even a wedding, that 
she should be rejoiced over to the extent of streamers. All of 
which Captain Copp was deaf to. He started by the ten 
o’clock omnibus for Jutpoint, having undertaken first of all to 
send home provisions for dinner. A pair of soles and two 
pounds of veal cutlet had been meekly suggested by Mrs. 
Copp. 

The morning wore on. Sarah, the middle-aged, hard- 
featured, sensible-looking, thoroughly capable woman-servant. 


CAPTAIN COPP. 


241 


who was bold enough to dispute with her master, and not in 
the least to care at being likened to pirates and other disre- 
spectful things, stood in the kitchen making a gooseberry pud- 
ding, when the butcher-boy came in without the ceremony of 
announcing himself ; unless a knocking and pushing of his 
tray against the back door-posts, through awkwardness, could 
be called such. 

Some dishes, please,’’ said he. 

Dishes ! ” retorted Sarah, who had one of the strongest 
tongues in Coastdown. Dishes for what ? ” 

For this here meat. The captain have just been in and 
bought it, and master have sent it up.” 

He displayed some twelve or fifteen pounds of meat — ^beef, 
veal, lamb. Sarah’s green eyes — good, honest, pleasant eyes 
in tlie main — glistened. 

Then your master’s a fool. Didn’t I tell him not to pay 
attention to the captain when he took these freaks in his 
head ? ” she demanded. “ When he goes and buys up the 
whole shop — as he did one day last winter because he was ex- 
pecting an old mate of his, down — your master’s not to notice 
him no more nor if he was a child. An uncommon soft yoti 
must be, to bring up all them joints ! Did you think you was 
supplying the Bed Court? Just ^mu march back with ’em.” 

There was an interruption. While the boy stood staring at 
the meat, hardly knowing what to do, and rubbing his fingers 
amidst his shining black hair, Mrs. Copp entered the kitchen, 
and became acquainted with the state of affairs. She wore a 
pale muslin gown, as faded as her gentle self, with pale green 
ribbons. 

Dear me,” she meekly cried, all that meat ! We could 
not get through the half of it while it was good ? Do you 
think, James, your master would have any objection to take it 
back ? ” 

Objection ! He’ll take it back, ma’am, whether he has 
any objection or not,” cried the positive Sarah. ‘^How then ! 
who’s this ? ” 

Somebody seemed to be clattering up in clogs. A woman 
with the fish : three pairs of large soles and a score or two of 
herrings, which the captain had bought and paid for. Mrs. 
Copp, fearing what else might be coming, looked inclined to 
cry. The exasperated Sarah, more practical, took her hands 
out of the paste, wiped the flour off them on her check apron, 
15 


242 


THE BED COURT FARM. 


and went darting across the heath without bonnet to the 
butcher’s shop, the boy and his tray of rejected meat slowly 
following her. There she commenced a wordy war with the 
butcher, accusing him of being an idiot, with other disparag- 
ing epithets, and went marching home in triumph carrying 
two pounds of veal cutlet. 

^^And that’s too much for us,” she cried to her mistress, 
with all that stock of fish and the pudding. What on earth 
is to be done with the fish, I don’t know. If I fiy a pair for 
dinner, and pickle the herrings, there’ll be two pair left. They 
won’t pickle. One had need to have poor folk coming here as 
they do at the Eed Court. Master’s gone off with purple 
streamers flying from his hat ; I think he’d more need to put 
on bells.” 

Scarcely had she got her hands into the flour again, when 
another person arrived. A girl with a goose. It was in its 
feathers, just killed. 

If you please, ma’am,” said she to Sarah, with a curtsey, 
mother sa^’s she’ll stick the other as soon as ever she can 
catch him; but he’s runned away over the common. Mother 
sent me up with this for ’fraid you should be waiting to pluck 
him. The captain said they was to come up sharp.” 

Sarah could almost have found in her heart to stick” her 
master. She was a faithful servant, and the waste of money 
vexed her. Mrs. Copp, quite unable to battle with the petty 
ills of life, left the strong-minded woman to fight against 
these, and ran aw^ay to her parlor. 

The respected cause of all this, meanwhile, had reached 
Jutpoint, he and his streamers. There he had to wait a con- 
siderable time, but the train came in at last, and brought the 
travellers. 

They occupied a first-class compartment in the middle of 
the train. There had been a little matter about the tickets at 
starting. Isaac Tliornycroft procured them ; when thej^ were 
seated, Anna took out her purse to repay him, and found she 
had not enough money in it. A little more that she possessed 
was in her box. Accustomed to travel second-class, even 
third, the cost of the ticket was more than she had thought 
for. Eighceenpence short ! 

If you wily, please to take this, I will repay you the rest 
as soon as I can get to my box,” she said, with painful 
embarrassment — an embarrassment that Isaac could not fail 


CAPTAIN COPP. 


243 


to notice and to wonder at. Reared as she had been, money 
wore to her an undue value ; to want it in a time of need 
seemed little short of a crime. She turned the silver about in 
her hands, blusliing painfully. Miss Thornycroft discerned 
somewhat of the case. 

Never mind, Anna. I dare say you thought to travel 
second-class. You can repay my brother later.’^ 

Isaac’s quick brain took in the whole. This poor friendless 
girl, kept at the Miss Jupps’ almost out of charity, had less 
money in a year for necessities than he would sometimes spend 
in an hour in frivolity. Anna held out the silver still, with 
the rose-colored flush deepening on her delicate cheeks. 

What is it. Miss Chester? ’’ he suddenly said. Why do 
you offer me your money ? ’’ 

You took my ticket, did you not ? 

Certainly,” he answered, showing the three little pieces of 
card in his waistcoat. But I held the money for yours 
beforehand. Put up your purse.” 

Did you,” she answered, in great relief, but embarrassed 
still. Did Mrs. Copp give it you ? — or Miss J upp ? — or — or 
the captain ? ” Isaac laughed. 

^Wou had better not inquire into secrets. Miss Chester. 
All I can tell you is, I had the money for your ticket in my 
pocket. Where is that important article— ^the wicker bottle ? 
Captain Copp will expect it returned to him — empty.” 

“ It is empty now; Miss Jupp poured out the rum-and- 
water,” she answered, laughing. 1 have it all safe.” 

She put up her purse as she spoke, inquiring no further as 
to the donor in her spirit of implicit obedience, but concluded 
it must have been Miss Jupp. And she never knew the truth 
until — until it was too late to repay Isaac. 

At the terminus, side by side with the captain and his 
streamers, stood Justice Thornycroft. Anna remembered him 
well ; the tall, fine, genial-natured man whom she had seen 
three years before in the day’s visit to Mrs. Chester. All 
thouglit of her had long ago passed from his memory, but he 
recognized the face — the pale, patient, gentle face, which, even 
then, had struck Mr. Thornycroft as being the sweetest he had 
ever looked upon. It so struck him now. 

^WYhere have I seen you?” he asked. And Anna told 
him. 

The carriage, very much to the displeasure of Mary Anne, 


244 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


had not come over for her. Mr. Thornjcroft explained that 
one of the horses he generally drove in it was found to be 
lame that morning. They got into the omnibus, the captain 
preferring to place himself with his ribbons and his wooden 
leg flat on the roof amidst the luggage. On the outskirts of 
Jutpoint, in obedience to his signal, the driver came to a 
standstill before the door of the White Cliff public house, 
and the captain’s head appeared at the back window, in a 
hanging position, inquiring whether brandy or rum would be 
preferred ; adding, with a somewhat fierce look at Mr. Thorny- 
croft and Isaac, that he should stand glasses round this time. 
Very much to the captain’s discomfiture, the young ladies and 
the gentlemen declined both ; so the only order the crest- 
fallen captain could give the White Cliff, was for two glasses 
of rum, cold without ; that were disposed of by himself and 
the driver. 

“ Mind, Anna ! I feel l^hree-parts of a stranger in this 
place, and have really not a^friend of my own age and condi- 
tion in it, so you must supply the place of one to me during 
these holidays,” said Miss Thornycroft, as the omnibus reached 
its destination — the Mermaid. “Part of every day I shall 
expect you to spend at the Ped Court.” 

“I beg to second that,” whispered Isaac, taking Anna’s 
hand to help her out. And she blushed again that day for 
about the fiftieth time without knowing why or wherefore. 

Not upon these summer holidays can we linger, because so 
much time must be spent on those of the next winter. On 
those of the next winter ! If the inmates of the Ped Court 
Farm could but have foreseen what those holidaj^s were to 
bring forth for them ! or Mary Anne Thornycroft dreamt of 
the consequences of indulging her own self-will! Just a few 
words more of the present, and then we go on. 

Anna Chester’s sojourn at Coastdown was passing swiftly, 
and she seemed as in a verj^ Elysium. The days of toil, of 
servitude, of incessant care for others were over, temporarily 
at any rate, and she enjoyed comfort and rest. The hospita- 
ble, good-hearted sailor-captain, with his tales of the sea- 
serpent, the mermaid he had seen, and other marvels ; the 
meek, gentle, ever-thoughtful Mrs. Copp, who caused Anna to 
address her as “ aunt,” and behaved more kindly to her than 
any aunt did yet ; the most charming visits day by day to the 
Ped Court Farm, and the constant society of Isaac Thorny- 


CAPTAIN COPP. 


245 


croft. Ah, there it lay — the strange fascination that all things 
were beginning to possess around her — in the companionship 
of him. To say that Isaac Tliornycroft, hitherto so mocking- 
ly heart-whole, had fallen in love with Anna the first evening 
he saw her at Miss Jupp’s, would be going too far, but he was 
certainly three-parts in love before they reached Coastdown 
the following day. To watch her gentle face became jike the 
sweetest music to Isaac Thornycroft. To see her ever-wakeful 
attentions to her entertainers, her gratitude for their kindness, 
her prompt help of Sarah when extra work was to be done, 
her loving care for the friendless and poor, was something new 
to Isaac, altogether out of his experience. Come weal, come 
woe, he resolved that this girl should be his wife. People, in 
their thoughtless gossip, had been wont to predict a high-born 
and wealthy bride for the attractive second son of Justice 
Thornycroft; this humble orphan, the poor daughter of the 
many years poor and humble curate, was the one he fixed 
upon, with all the world before him to choose from. How 
Fate changes plans! ^^L’homme propose, mais Dieu dispose,^^ 
was one of the most solemn truisms ever penned. Long ere 
the six weeks of holidays had passed, Isaac Thornjmroft and 
Anna Chester had become all in all to each other: and he, 
a man accustomed to act upon impulse, spoke out. 

It was during an evening walk to the Fed Court Farm. 
Anna was going to tea there; Isaac met her on the heath — no 
unusual thing — and turned to walk by her side. Both were 
silent after the first greeting : true love is rarely eloquent. 
With her soft cheeks blushing, her pale eyelids drooping, her 
heart wildlj’’ beating, Anna sought — at first in vain — to 
find some topic of conversation, and chose but a lame one. 

^^Has Mary Anne finished her screen ? 

Isaac smiled. As if I knew ! 

^‘She has the other one to do; and we shall be going back 
in a week.*^ 

Hot in a week ! 

The holidays will be up a week to-morrow.” 

A vista of the miserable time after her departure, when all 
things would be dark and dreaiy, wanting her who had come 
to make his heart’s sunshine, cast its foreshadowing across^ the 
brain of Isaac. He turned to her in his impulse, speaking 
passionately. 

Anna, I cannot lose you. Father than that, I must — I 
must ” 


246 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Must what ? she asked, innocently. 

Keep you here on a visit to myself— a visit that can never 
terminate.’^ 

Insensibly, she drew a little from him. Kot that the words 
would have been unwelcome had circumstances justified them ; 
how welcome, the sudden rush of inward joy, the wild coursing 
on of all her pulses, tbld her. But— loving him though she 
did 5 conscious or half-conscious of his love for her it never 
occurred to the mind of Anna Chester that a union would be 
within the range of possibility. She— the poor humble slave 
— be wedded by a great and wealthy gentleman like Isaac 
Thornycroft ! 

Would you object to the visit, Anna — though it were to 

be for life /v • 

It could not be,’’ she answered, in a low tone, not affecting 

to misunderstand him. 

« Oh, couldn’t it ! ” said Isaac, amused, and taking up 
rather the wrong view of the words. “But if you and I say 
it shall ? ” 

“Halloa! Is it you, Isaac? How d’ye do. Miss Ches- 
ter ? ” 

Bichard Thornycroft, coming suddenly into the path from a 
side crossing, halted as he spoke. Isaac, put out for once in 
his life, bit his lips. 

“ I want you, Isaac. I was looking for you. Here’s some 
bother up.” 

“ What bother ? ” testily rejoined Isaac. 

“ You had better come down and hear it. Tomlett — 

Come along.” 

Seeing plainly that his walk with Anna was over for tho 
time, Isaac Thornycroft turned off with his brother, leaving 
Anna to go on alone to the gate, which was in sight. 

“ Good-day for the present, Anna,” he said, with apparent 
carelessness. Tell Mary Anne not to wait tea for me. I 
may not be in.” 

More forcibly than ever on this evening, when she sat in 
the spacious drawing-room surrounded by its many elegancies, 
did the contrast between the Bed Court and her own poor 
home of the past strike on the senses of Anna Chester. 
Hothing that moderate wealth could purchase was here want- 
ing. Several servants, spacious and handsome rooms, luxuries 
to please the eye and please the palate. Look at the tea-table 


CAPTAIN COPP. 


247 


laid out there ! The delicate^y-iuade Worcester china, rich in 
hues of purple and gold ; the chased silver tea and coffee 
service on their chased silver stands; small fringed damask 
napkins on the purple and gold plates. Shrimps large as 
prawns, potted meats, rolled bread-and-butter, muffins, rich 
cake, and marmalade, are there ; for it is Justice Thornycroft’s 
will that all meals, if laid, shall be laid well. Sometimes a 
cup of tea only came in for Miss Thornycroft, as it used to do 
for my lady when she was there. It almost seemed to Anna 
Chester as if she were enacting a deceit, a lie, in sitting at it, 
its honored guest, for whom these things were spread, when 
she thought of the scrambling meals in her former home with 
Mrs. Chester’s children. The odd teacups — for as one got 
broken it would be replaced by another of any shape or 
pattern, provided it were cheap ; saucers notched ; cracked 
cups without handles ; the stale loaf on the table ; the scanty 
untidy plate of salt butter, of which she liad to cut perpetual 
slices, like Werther’s Charlotte ; the stained table without a 
cover, crumbs strewing it. Look on this picture and on that. 
Anna did, in deep dejection ; and the thought which had 
faintly presented itself to her mind when Isaac Thornycroft 
spoke his momentous words, grew into grim and defined shape, 
and would not be scared away — that she could be no fit wife 
for Isaac. She resolved to tell him of these things, and of 
her own unfitness; how very poor she was, always had been, 
always (according to present prospects) would be; and beg 
him to think no more of her; and she did not doubt he would 
unsay his words of his own accord when he came to know of 
it. It is true she winced at the task ; but her conscience told 
her it must be done, though her heart should faint at it. She 
could imagine no fate so bright in the wide world as that of 
becoming the wife of Isaac Thornycroft. 

What makes you so silent this evening ? ” 

Anna started at Miss Thornycroft’s words. That young 
lady was eyeing her with curiosity. 

“ I was only thinking,” she answered, with a vivid blush. 

Oh, and I forgot ; your brother wished me to ask you not to 
wait tea for him.” 

My brother ! WTiicli of them ? ” 

Mr. Isaac.” 

^Wery considerate. I’m sure! seeing that I never do wait 
and that if I did he would probably not come in.” 


248 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


There^ was a mocking tone in her voice that Anna rather 
winced at as applied to Isaac. She went on explaining where 
she saw him ; that he and Richard had walked away together 
— she fancied to Tomlett’s. 

“ Tliey are a great deal too intimate with Tomlett,” spoke 
Miss Thornycroft, curling her lip. He is no better than a 
boatman. My belief is, they go and drink gin-and-water with 
him. They ought to have more pride.” 

Mr. Richard said there was some ‘ bother.’ ” 

Oh ! of course ; any excuse before you. I tell yon, Anna, 
they are just a couple of loose 3mung men.” 

The '‘loose ^mung men” came in shortly; Richard to go 
away again, laaac to remain. He had told Mrs. Copp he would 
see her home safelj^ " Let it be by dajdight, if you please,” 
answered that discreet lady. 

Not by da^dight, but under the stars of the sweet summer’s 
niglit, the}-’ went out. There was no one to see ; the way was 
lonely ; and Isaac drew Anna’s hand within his arm for the 
first time and kept it a prisoner. 

" I must take care of you, Anna, as you are to become my 
own property.” 

"But I — I am not to become that; I wish I could,. but it is 
impossible,” she stammered, setting about her task in hesitat- 
ing perplexity. 

"Anna, do you understand me? I am asking you to be 
my wife.” 

" Yes, I — I believe I understood ; and I feel very grateful 
to you, all the same.” 

" All the same ! ” Isaac Thornycroft released her hand and 
turned to face her. 

"Just tell me what you mean. Don’t you care for me?” 

Agitated, embarrassed, she burst into tears. Isaac took 
both her hands now, holding them before him. They had 
reached the churchyard, and its graves were distinct in tlie 
twilight ; the stars looked down on them from the blue sky 
above ; the sound of the surging sea came over with a faint 
murmur. 

"I thought you loved me, Anna. Surely I cannot have 
been steering on a wrong tack ? ” 

As the soft eyes glanced at him through their tears, he saw 
enough to know that she did love him. Reassured on tliat 
score, he turned and walked on again, her arm kept within 
his. 


CAPTAIN COPP. 249 

Now, tell me what you mean/^ he said quietly. There 
can he no other har.^^ 

“ I do not know how to tell you/^ she answered. I do not 
like to tell you.’^ 

“Nonsense, Anna. I shall keep you out here pacing the 
heath until you do tell, though it be until morning, which 
would certainly send Mrs. Copp into a tit.^’ 

Not very awkwardly when she had fairly entered upon it, 
Anna told her tale — her sense of the unfitness, nay, the im- 
possibility of the union — of the wide social gulf that lay be- 
tween them, Isaac met the communication with a laugli. 

“ Is that all ! It is my turn now not to understand. You 
have been reared a gentlewoman, Anna.’^ 

“ Papa was a clergyman. I have been reared, I think, to 
nothing but work. We were so very poor. My home — ah ! 
if yon could see, if you could imagine the contrast it presented 
to this of yours ! As I sat in your drawing-room to-night I 
could not help feeling the difference forcibly.^^ 

If Isaac Thornycroft had not seen what she spoke of, he had 
seen something else — that never in his whole life had he met 
any one who gave him so entirely the idea of a gentlewoman 
— as this girl now speaking with him, Anna Chester. He 
continued in evident amusement. 

“ Let us see how your objection can be refuted. You play 
and sing? ” 

“A little.'' 

“ You draw ? " 

“ A little." 

“ You can dance ? " 

“ Yes ; I can dance." 

“ Whj^, then — not to enter on other desirable qualities — you 
are an accomplished young lady. What do you mean about 
unfitness ? " 

“ I see you are laughing at me," she said, the tears strug- 
gling to her eyes again. “ I am so very poor; I teach for the 
merest trifle : it barely finds me in the cheapest clothes. I 
only looked forward to a life of work. And you are rich — at 
least Mr. Thornycroft is." 

“ If we have a superfluity of riches, there's all the more 
cause for me to dispense with them in a wife. Besides, when 
I set up my tent, it will not be on the scale of my father's 
house. Anna, my darling ! " he added, with a strange gravity 


250 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


in liis eye and tone, we are more on an equality than you 
may deein/^ 

Siie made no reply, having enough to do to keep her tears 
from falling. 

liave sufficient for comfort — a sort of love-in-a-cottage 
establishment,^^ went on Isaac ; ^‘and I am heartily sick of my 
bachelor’s life. It leads me into all sorts of extravagances, 
and is unsatisfactory at the best. You must promise to be my 
wife, Anna.” 

“ There are the lights in Captain Copp’s parlor,” said she, 
with singular irrelevance. 

^^Just so. But you do not go in until I have 3’our 
promise.” 

They were saying one day, some of them — I think it was 
Mrs. Connaught — that you ^vould be sure to marry into one of 
the good county families,” murmured Anna. 

^^I)id the,y ? I liope the diiinppointment won’t be too much 
for them. I shall marry you, Anne, and none other.” 

^^But what would your family say? Your father — your 
sister ? ” , 

Adjust what they pleased. Anna, pardon me, I am only 
teasing j^ou. Believe me, they will only be too glad to hear of 
it ; glad that the wild, unsteady (as Mary Anne is pleased to 
call me on occasion) Isaac Thornycroft should make himself 
into a Respectable man. Anne ! can you not trust me ? ” 

She had trusted all her life, yielded implicitly to the sway of 
those who held influence over her ; little chance was there, 
then, that she could hold out now. Isaac Thornycroft re- 
ceived the promise his heart hungered for, and sealed it. 

Her face gathered against his breast; lier slight form 
shrinking in his strong arms ; he kept her there a prisoner ; 
his voice breathing soft love-vows; his blue eyes bent greedily 
on her blushing face ; his kisses, the only honest kisses his life 
had known, pressed again and again upon her lips. 

“ Who on earth is that ? Avast, thieves ! sea serpents ! ' 
pirates ! ” 

The gallant Captain Copp, his night-glass pushed out at the 
open window to an acute angle, had been contemplating these 
puzzling proceedings for some time. Fortunately he did not 
distinguish very clearly, and remained ignorant of the real 
matter. Ill-conditioned people, tips}^ fishermen and else, their 
brains muddled with drink, found their way to the heath on 


CAPTAIN COPP. 


251 


occasion, and the captain considered it a duty to society to 
order tliem off. Sweeping the horizon and the nearer plain 
to-night, his glass had shown him some object not easy to 
make out. The longer Captain Copp waited for it to move, 
the longer it stayed stationary; the more he turned his glass, 
the less chance did it appear to give of revealing itself. Nat- 
urally, two people in close proximity, the head of the taller one 
bent over the other so as to leave no indication of the human 
form, would present a puzzling paradox when viewed through 
a night-glass : the captain came to the conclusion that it was 
the most extraordinary spectacle ever presented to his eyes 
since they had looked on that sea serpent in the Pacific ; and 
he rose his voice to hail it when suspense was becoming quite 
unbearable. 

Isaac Thornycroft, adroitl}^ sheltering his companion, glided 
up the little opening by Mrs. Connaught^s. In a few minutes, 
when the captain had drawn his head and glass in for a 
respite, he walked boldly up to the door by the side of Anna. 
Good evening, captain. 

^^Good evening, blithely responded the captain. Sorry 
you should have the trouble of bringing her home. Come in, 
Anna. I say, did you meet any queer thing on the heath ? ’’ 
Queer thing ? responded Isaac. 

“ A man without a head, or anything of that light sort ? 

No. There’s a strange horse browsing a bit lower down,” 
added Isaac. Some stray animal.” 

The captain considered, and came to the conclusion that it 
could not well have been the horse. What it really was he 
did not conjecture. 

Meanwhile Anna Chester had gone upstairs to the pleasant 
little room she occupied, and took off her bonnet in a maze of 
rapture. The world had changed into a heavenly Elysium. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

ISAAC THORNYCROFT’s STRATAGEM. 

A STILL evening in October. The red light in the west, 
following on a glorious sunset, threw its last rays athwart the 


252 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


sea : the evening star came out in its brightness ; the fishing 
boats were bearing steadily for home. 

Captain Copp’s parlor was alight with a ruddy glow; not of 
the sun but of the fire. It shone brightly on the captain’s 
face, at rest now. He had put down his pipe on the hearth, 
after carefully knocking the smouldering ashes out, and gone 
quietly to sleep, his wooden leg laid fiat on an opposite chair, 
his other leg stretched over it. Mrs. Copp sat knitting a 
stocking by fire-light, her gentle face rather thoughtful ; and, 
half-kneeling, half-sitting on the hearth-rug, reading, was 
Anna Chester. 

She was here still. When Mary Anne Thornj^croft return- 
ed to school after the summer holidays. Captain Copp had re- 
solutely avowed Anna should stay with him. What was six 
weeks, he fiercely demanded, to get up a lad^^’s health : let 
her stop six months, and then he’d see about it. Mrs. Copp 
hardly knew what to sa}", between her wish to keep Anna and 
her fear of putting the Miss Jupps to an inconvenience. 

Inconvenience be shot!” politely rejoined the captain ; and 
Mary Anne Thornycroft went back without her, bearing an 
explanatory and deprecatory letter. 

It almost seemed to the girl that the delighted beating of 
her heart — at the consciousness of staying longer in tlie place 
that contained him — must be a guilty joy, — guilty because it 
was concealed. Certainl}^ not from herself might come the first 
news of her engagement to Isaac Thornycroft : she was far 
too humble, too timid, to make the announcement. Truth to 
say she only half believed in it : it seemed too blissful to be true. 
While Isaac did not proclaim it, she was quite content to let it 
rest a secret from the whole world. And so the months had 
gone on ; Anna living in her paradise of happiness ; Isaac 
making love to her privately in very fervent tenderness. 

In saying to Anna Chester that his family would be only 
too glad to see him married, Isaac Thornycroft (and a doubt 
that it might prove so lay dimly in his mind when he said it) 
found that he had reckoned without his host. At the first 
intimation of his possible intention, Mr. Thornycroft and 
Hichard rose up in arms against it. What the}^ said was 
breathed in his ear alone, earnestly, forcibly ; and Isaac, who 
saw how fruitless would be all pleading on his part, burst out 
laughing, and let them think the whole a joke. A hasty word 
spoken by Richard in his temper as he came striding out of 
the inner passage, caught the ear of Mary Anne. 


ISAAC THORNYCROFT’s STRATAGEM. 253 

Isaac, what did he mean? Surely you are not going to 
be married ? 

“They thought I^was,^^ answered Isaac, laughing. “I 
married ! Would anybody have me, do you suppose, Mary 
Anne ? 

“I think Miss Tindal would. There would be heaps of 
money and a good connection, you know, Isaac.’^ 

Miss Tindal was a strong-minded lady in spectacles, who 
owned to thirty years and thirty thousand pounds. She 
quoted Latin, rode straight across the country after the hounds, 
and was moreover a baronet^s niece. A broad smile played 
over Isaac’s lips. 

“Miss Tindal’s big enough to shake me. I think she 
would, too, on provocation. She can take her fences better 
than I can. That’s not the kind of woman I’d marry. I 
should like a meek one.” 

“A meek one ! ” echoed Mary Anne, wondering whether he 
was speaking in derision. “ What do you call a meek one ? ” 

“ A modest gentle girl who would not shake me. Such a 
one as — let me see, where is there one ? — as Anna Chester, 
sa}^, for example.” 

All the scorn the words deserved seemed concentrated in 
Miss Thornjxroft’s haughty face. 

“ As good marry a beggar as her. Why, Isaac she is only 
a working teacher — a half-boarder at school ! She is not one 
of ^^5.” 

He la.ughed off the alarm as he had done his father’s and 
brother’s a few minutes before, the line of conduct completely 
disarming all parties. She would not tolerate Miss Chester, 
they would not tolerate his marriage at all : that was plain. 
Isaac Thorny croft did not care openly to oppose his family, or 
be opposed by them ; he let the subject drop out of remembrance, 
and left the future to the future. But he said not a word of 
this to Anna; she suspected nothing of it, and was just as 
contented as he to let things take their course in silence. To 
her there seemed but one possible calamity in the world; and 
that lay in being separated from him. 

Sitting on the hearth-rug, in the October evening, her eyes 
on the small print by the fire-light, getting dim now, Anna’s 
heart was a-glow within her, for that evening was to be spent 
with Isaac Thornj^croft. A gentleman with his daughter was 
staying for a couple of days at the Red Court, and Anna had 


254 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


been asked to go there for the evening, and bear the young 
lady company. 

“ dear,” whispered Mrs. Copp, in, the midst of her knit- 
ting, “ is it not getting late ? You will have the daylight 
quite gone.” 

Anna glanced up. It was getting late; but Isaac Thorny- 
croft had said to her, I shall fetch you.” Still the habit of 
implicit obedience was, as ever, strong upon her, and she 
'would fain have started there and then, in compliance with the 
suggestion. 

‘‘ What a noise Sarah’s making ! ” 

So she is,” assented Mrs. Copp, as a noise like the bump- 
ing about of boxes, followed by talking, grew upon their ears. 
Another moment, and Sarah opened the door. 

“ A visitor,” she announced in an uncompromising voice, 
and the captain started up, prepared to explode a little, at 
being aroused. Which fact Sarah was no doubt anticipat- 
ing, and she spoke again. 

It is your mother, sir.” 

Yes, it’s me, Sam ; ” cried an upright wiry lady, very pos- 
itive and abrupt in manner. Her face looked as if weather- 
beaten, and she wore large round tortoise shell spectacles. 

Who’s that ? ” she cried, sitting down on the large sofa, as 
Anna stood up in her pretty silk dress, with the pink ribbons 
in her hair. Who? The daughter of the Reverend James 
Chester and his first wife ! You are very like your father, 
child, but prettier. Where’s my sea-chest to go, Sam?” 

I am trul}" glad to see j^ou, dear mother, whispered Amy 
Copp, in her loving way. ‘‘ The best bedroom is not in order, 
but ” 

“ And can’t be put in order before to-morrow,” interposed 
Sarah, who had no notion of being taken by storm in this way. 

The luggage had better be put in the back kitchen for to- 
night.” 

Is there much luggage ? ” asked the captain. 

Nothing to speak of,” said Mrs. Copp; who, being used to 
the accommodation of a roomy ship, regarded quantity accord- 
ingly. Sarah coughed. 

“ My biggest sea-chest, four trunks, two band-boxes, and a 
few odd parcels,” continued the traveller. I am going to 
spend Christmas with some friends in London, but I thought 
I’d come to you first. As to the room not being in apple-pie 
order, that’s nothing. I’m an old sailor ; I’m not particular.” 


ISAAC THORNYCROFT’s STRATAGEM. 


255 


^^Put a pillow down here, if that’s all/’ cried the captain, . 
indicating the hearth-rug. Mother has slept in many a 
worse berth, haven’t ye, mother ? ” 

A}^, lad, that I have. But now I shall want some of those 
boxes unpacked to-night. I have got a set of furs for you, 
Amy, somewhere ; I don’t know which box they were put in.” 

Amy was overpowered. You are too good to me,” she 
murmured with tears in her eyes. 

“And I have brought you a potato-steamer; that’s in 
another,” added Mrs. Copp. “I have taken to have mine 
steamed lately, Sam ; you’d never eat them again boiled if you 
once tried it.” 

In the midst of this bustle Isaac Thornycroft walked in. 
Anna, in a flutter of heart-delight, but with a calm manner, 
went upstairs, and came down with her bonnet on, to find 
Isaac opening box after box in the back kitchen, under Mrs. 
Copp’s direction, in search of tlie furs and the potato-steamer, 
the captain assisting, Amy standing by. The articles were 
found, and Isaac, laughing heartily in his gay good-humor, 
went off with Anna. 

“What time am I to fetch you. Miss Anna?” inquired 
Sarah, as they went out. 

“ I will see Miss Chester home,” answered Isaac : “ you are 
busy to-night.” 

Mrs. Copp, gazing through her tortoise-shell spectacles at 
the potato-steamer, as she pointed out its beauties, suddenly 
turned to another subject, and brought her glasses to bear on 
her son and his wife. 

“ W'hich of the }"t)ung Thornycrofts is that ? I forget.” 

“Isaac; the second son.” 

“ To be sure ; Isaac, the best and handsomest of the bunch. 
You must take care,” added Mrs. Copp, shrewdly. 

“ Take care of what ? ” 

“ They might be falling in love with each other. I don’t 
know whether he’s much here. He is as fine a fellow as you’d 
see in a day’s march; and she’s just the pretty gentle thing 
that fine men faiicj^” 

Had it been anj^body but his mother. Captain Copp would 
have shown his sense of the caution in strong language. 
“Moonshine and rubbish,” cried he. “Isaac Thornycroft’s 
not the one to entangle himself with a sweetheart ; the young 
Thornycrofts are not marrying men ; and if he were would 
look a little higher than poor Anna Chester.” 


256 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


That’s just it, the reason why you should he cautious, 
Sam,” rejoined Mrs. Copp. Not being suitable, there’d be 
no doubt a bother over it at the Ked Court.” 

Amy, saying something about looking to the state of the 
spare room, left them in the parlor. Truth to say, the hint 
had scared her. Down deep in her mind, for some short while 
past, had a suspicion lain that they were ratlier more attached 
to each other than need be. She had only hoped it was not 
so. She did not by any means see her way clear to hinder it, 
and was content to let the half fear rest; but these words had 
roused it in all its force. They had somehow brought a con- 
viction of the fact, and she saw trouble looming. What else 
could come of it ? Anna was no match for Isaac Thorny croft. 

“Sam,” began Mrs. Copp, when she was alone with her son, 
“ how does Amy continue to go on ? Makes a good wife 
still?” ^ 

Captain Copp nodded complacently. “Never a better wife 
going. No tantrums — no blowings off; knits all my stock- 
ings and woollen jerseys.” 

“ You must have a quiet house.” 

“ Should, if ’twere not for Sarah. She fires off for herself 
and Amy too. I’m obliged to keep her under.” 

“ Ah,” said Mrs. Copp, rubbing her chin. “ Then I expect 
you get up some breezes together. But she’s not a bad ser- 
vant, Sam.” 

“ She’s a clipper, mother — A 1 ; couldq’t steer along with- 
out her.” 

What with the boxes, and what with the exactions of the 
spare bed-room to render it habitable for the night, for Mrs. 
Copp generally chose to put herself into everybody’s business, 
and especially into her own, the two ladies had to leave Cap- 
tain Copp very much to his own society. Solitude is the time 
for reflection, we are told, and it may have been the cause of 
the captain’s recurring again and again to the hint his mother 
had dropped in regard to Isaac Thornycroft. That there was 
nothing in it yet he fully assumed, and it might be as well to 
take precautions that nothing should be in it for the future. 
Prevention was better than cure. Being a straightforward 
man, one who could not have gone in a roundabout or cau- 
tious way to work, it occurred to the captain to say a word to 
Mr. Isaac on the verj^ first opportunity. 

It was the first evening Anna bad spent at the Bed Court 


ISAAC THORNYCIIOFT’s STRATAGEM. 257 

since Miss Thornycroft left it. The walk there, the sojourn, 
the walk home again by moonlight, all seemed to partake of 
heaven’s own happiness — perfect, pure, peaceful. There had 
been plenty and plenty of opportunities for lingering together 
in the twilight on the heath in coming home from the seashore 
but this was the first long legitimate walk they had taken ; 
and considering that they were sixty minutes over it, when 
they might have done it in sixteen, it cannot be said they 
hurried themselves. 

The captain was at the window, not looking on the broad 
expanse before him, but at the faint light seen now and again 
from some fishing vessel cruising in the distance. It was his 
favorite look-out ; and, except on a boisterous or rainy night, 
the shutters were rarely closed until ten o’clock. 

Come in and have a glass of grog with me,” was his salu- 
tation to Isaac Thornycroft as he and Anna came to the gate. 

’Twill be a charity,” added the captain. I’m all alone. 
Mother’s gone up to bed tired, and Amy’s looking after her.” 

Isaac came in and sat down, but wanted to decline the grog. 
Captain Copp was offended, so to pacify him he mixed some. 
As Anna held out her hand to the captain to sa}^ good nighty 
he noticed that her soft eyes were full of loving light ; her 
generally delicate cheeks were a hot crimson. 

“Hope it hasn’t come of kissing,” thought the shrewd and 
somewhat discomfited sailor. 

“ How well 3mur mother wears ! ” observed Isaac. 

“ She was always tough,” replied Captain Copp, in a thank- 
ful accent. “ Hope she will be for many a year to come. 
Look here, Mr. Isaac, I meant to say a word to you. Don’t 
you begin any sweethearting with that girl of ours, or talking 
nonsense of that sort. It wouldn’t do, you know.” 

“Wouldn’t it?” returned Isaac, carelessly. 

“Wouldn’t it ! Why, bless and save my wooden leg, would 
it ? A pretty uproar there’d be at the Led Court. I’d not 
have such a thing happen for the best three-decker that 
was ever launched. I’d rather quarrel with the whole of 
Coastdown than with your folks.” 

“ Eather quarrel with me, captain, than with them, I sup- 
pose,” returned Isaac, stirring his grog. 

Captain Copp looked hard at him. “ I should think so.” 

By intuition, rather than by outward signs, Isaac Thorny- 
croft saw that the obstinate old sailor would be true to the 
16 


258 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


backbone to what he deemed right ; that he might as well ask 
for Amy Copp as for Anna Chester, unless he could produce 
credentials from his father. And so he could only temporize 
and disarm suspicion. Honorable b}’ nature though he was, 
he considered the suppression of affairs justifiable, on the score, 
we must suppose, that All stratagems are fair in love and 
war.’’ 

“ Good health, captain,” said he, with a merry laugh — a 
laugh that somehow reassured Captain Copp. “ And now tell 
me what wonderful event put you up to say this.” 

“It was mother,” answered the simple-minded captain. 
“The thought struck her somehow — you were both of you 
good-looking, she said. I knew there was no danger; Hho 
young Thornycrofts are not marrying men,’ I said to her. 
But now, look here, you and Anna had not better go out 
together again, lest other people should take up the same 
notions.” 

With these words Captain Copp believed he had settled the 
matter, and done all that was necessary in the way of warning. 
He said as much to Amy, confidentially. Whether it might 
have proved so, he had not the opportunity of judging. On 
the following morning that lady received a pressing summons 
to repair to London. One of her sisters, staying there tem- 
porarily, was seized with illness, and begged the captain’s wife 
to come and nurse her. By the next train she had started, 
taking Anna. 

“To be out of harm’s way,” she said to herself. “ To help 
me take care of Maria,” she said to the captain. 

Mrs. Wortley was a widow without children. So many 
events have to be crowded in, and the story thickens so great- 
13^, that nothing more need be said of her. The lodgings she 
had been temporarily occupying were near to old St. Pancras 
Church, and there Mrs. Sam Copp and Anna found her — two 
brave, skillful, tender nurses, ever readj" to do their best. 

Never before had Anna found illness wearisome ; never be- 
fore thought London the most dreary spot on earth. Ah, it 
was not in the locality; it was not in the illness that the ennui 
lay ; but in the absence of Isaac Thornycroft. He called to 
see them once, rather to the chagrin of the captain’s wife, and 
he met Anna the same day when she went for her walk. Mrs. 
Sam Copp did not suspect it. 

They had been in London about a month, the invalid was 


ISAAC THORNYCROFT’s STRATAGEM. 259 

better, and Mrs. Copp began to talk of returning home again ; 
when one dark i^ovember morning, upon Anna’s returning 
home from her walk — which Mrs. Copp, remembering her past 
weak condition, the result of work and confinement, insisted 
on her taking — Isaac Tliornycroft came in with her. He put 
his hat down on the table, took Mrs. Copp’s hands in his, and 
was entering upon some story, evidently a solemn one, when 
Anna nearly startled Mrs. Copp into fits by falling at her 
feet with a prayer for forgiveness, and bursting into tears. 

“Oh, aunt, forgive, forgive me! Isaac overpersuaded me ; 
he did indeed.” 

“Persuaded you to what?” asked Mrs. Copp. 

“To become my wife,” interposed Isaac. “We were 
married this morning.” 

The first thing Mrs. Copp did was to sink into a chair, her 
hair rising up on end ; the next was to go into hysterics. 
Isaac, quiet, calm, gentlemanly as ever, sent Anna away while 
he told the tale. 

“ I thought it the best plan,” he avowed. “ When I met 
Anna out yesterday — by chance as she thought — I got a 
promise from her to meet me again this morning, no matter 
what the weather might be. It turned out to be a dense fog, 
but she came. Through the fog I got her into the church 
door, and took her to a clergyman, waiting at the altar for 
us, before she well knew what was going to be.” 

Mrs. Copp threw up her hands, and screamed, and cried, 
and for once in her life called another creature deceitful — 
meaning Anna. But Anna — as he hastened to explain — had 
not been deceitful ; she had but yielded to his strong will in 
the agitation and surprise of the moment. Calculating upon 
this defect in her character — if it could be called a defect, 
brought up as she had been — Isaac Tliornycroft had made the 
arrangements at St. Pancras church without saying a word to 
her ; and, as it really may be said, surprised her into the mar- 
riage at the time of its taking place. 

“ There’s the certificate,” he said ; “ I asked the clergyman 
to give me one. Put it up carefully, dear Mrs. Copp.” 

“ To be married in this way I ” moaned poor Mrs. Copp. 
“My husband had liquor glasses of rum served out in the 
vestry at our wedding, but that was not half as bad as this. 
Hot a single witness on either side to countenance it ! ” 

“ Pardon me ; my brother Cyril was present,’^ answered 


260 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Isaac. I telegraphed for him last night, and he reached 
town this morning.” 

Isaac Thornycroft had sent for liis brother out of pure kind- 
ness to Anna, tliat the ceremony might so far be countenanced. 
It liad turned out to be the most craft}^ precaution he could 
have taken. Seeing C3’ril, Anna never supposed but that tlie 
Thornycroft family knew of it ; otherwise, yielding though she 
was in spirit, she might have withstood even Isaac. Cjn'il 
gave her awa3^ 

And now,” said Isaac, in an interval between the tears 
and moans, I am going to take Anna away with me for a 
week?’ 

Little by little Mrs. Copp succeeded in comprehending 
Mr. Isaac’s programme. To all intents and purposes he in- 
tended this to be a perfectl3^ secret marriage, and to remain so 
until the horizon before them should be clear of clouds. 
When Mrs. Copp went back home, Anna would return with 
her as Miss Chester, and they must be content with seeing 
each other occasionally as ordinary acquaintances. 

Mrs. Copp could only stare and gasp. Away with you for 
a week ! and then home again with me as Miss Chester ? Oh, 
Mr. Isaac! 3mu’ do not consider. Suppose her good name 
should suffer?” 

A slight frown contracted the capacious brow of Isaac 
Tliornycroft. “ Do you not see the precautions I have taken 
will prevent that ? On the first breath of need my brother 
Cyril will come forward to testify to the marriage, and 3^ou 
hold the certificate of it. Believe me, I weighed all, and laid 
my plans accordingly. I chose to make Anna my wife. It 
is not expedient to proclaim it just yet to the world — to your 
friends or to mine ; but I have done the best I could do under 
the circumstances. Cyril will be true to us and keep the 
secret ; I know you will also.” 

Mrs. Sam Copp faintly protested that she should never get 
over the blow. Isaac, with his sunny smile, his persuasive 
voice, told her she would do so before the day was out, and saw 
her seal the certificate in a large envelope and lock it up. 

Then he started with his bride to a small unfrequented 
fishing village in quite the opposite direction to Coastdown. 
And Anna had been married^ some days before she knew that 
her marriage was a secret from her husband’s family, Cyril ex- 
cepted, and to be kept one. 


IN LOVE. 


261 


CHAPTER XIX. 

IN LOVE. 

Robert Hunter sat in his chambers — as it is the fashion 
to call offices now. They were in a good position in Westmin- 
ster, and he was well established ; he had set up for himself, 
and was doing fairly — not yet making gold by shovelfuls, as 
engineers are reputed to have done of late years, but at least 
earning his bread and cheese, with every prospect that the 
gold was coming. 

Plans were scattered on the desk at which he sat ; some in- 
tricate calculations lay immediately before him. He regarded 
neither. His eyes were looking straight out at the opposite 
wall, a big chart of some district being there, but he saw it 
not ; nothing but vacancy. Very unusual indeed was it for 
Robert Hunter the practical to allow his- thoughts to stray 
Si\Y3.y in the midst of his work, as they had done now. 

During the past few months a change had come over his 
heart. It was of a different nature from that which, some 
two or three years before, after the death of his wife, had 
changed himself — changed as it seemed his whole nature, and 
made a man of him. Even now he could not bear to look back 
upon the idle, simple folly in which his days had been passed ; 
the circumstances that had brought this folly home to his 
mind, opened his eyes to it, as it were, had no doubt caused 
him to acquire a very exaggerated view of it ; but this did no 
harm to others, and worked good for himself. 

With the death of his wife, Robert Hunter had, so to say, 
put aside the pleasant phase, the ideal view of life, and en- 
tered on the hard, the stern, the practical — as he thought for 
ever. He had not calculated well in this. He forgot that he 
was still a young and attractive man (though his being attrac- 
tive or the contrary was not at all to the purpose) ; he forgot 
that neither the feelings nor the heart can grow old at will. 
It might have been very different had his heart received its 
death-blow ; but it was nothing but his conscience ; for he had 
not loved his wife. But of that he was unconscious until 
lately. 

Love — real love — the sweet heart’s dream that can never but 


262 


THE RED COERT FARM. 


once visit either man or woman, had come stealing over 
K/obert Hunter. Never but once. What says a modern poet ? 

“ Few hearts have never loved ; but fewer still 
Have felt a second passion.- None a third. 

The first was living fire; the next, a thrill; 

The weary heart can never more be stirred : 

Rely on it, the song has left the bird.” 

Truer words were rarely said or sung. The one only 
glimpse of Paradise vouchsafed to us on earth — a transitory 
glimpse at the best — cannot be repeated a second time. 
When it flies aw^ay it flies for ever. 

Ah, how different it was, this love, that was making a 
heaven of Robert Hunter’s life, from that which had been 
given to his poor dead wife — the child- wife, who had been so 
passionately attached to him ! He understood her agony now 
— when she had believed him false to her; when he, her 
heart’s idol, had apparently gone over to another’s worship — 
he did not understand it then. When inclined to be very 
self-condemnatory, ‘ to bring his sins and mistakes palpably 
before him, he would ask himself, looking back, what satisfac- 
tion he had derived from my Lady Ellis’s society, taking it at 
its best. A few soft glances ; a daily repetition of some sweet 
words ; a dozen kisses — they had not been more — snatched 
from her face; and some hand pressing when they met or 
parted. Literally this was all : there had been nothing, noth- 
ing more ; and Mr. Hunter had not even the poor consolation of 
knowing now that any love whatever on his side, or hers, had 
entered into the matter from the beginning to the ending. It 
was for this his wife had died ; it was for this he had laden his 
conscience with a weight that could never wholly leave it. 
He was not a heathen ; and when, close upon the death, 
remorse had pressed sorely upon him, an intolerable burthen 
of sin grevious to be borne, he had, in very pity for his own 
miserable state, carried it where he had never before carried 
anything. Consolation came in time, a sense of mercy, of 
help, of pardon ; but the recollection could never be blotted 
out, or tlie sense of too late repentance quit him. 

He remembered still ; he repented yet. Whenever the past 
occurred to him, it brought with it that terrible conviction — a 
debt of atonement owing to the dead, which can never be 
rendered — and Robert Hunter would feel the most humble 
man on the face of the earth. This sense of humiliation was 


IN LOVE. 


263 


no doubt good for him ; it came upon him at odd times and 
seasons; even in the midst of the new passion that filled his 
heart. 

Shall I ever win her he was thinking to himself, seated 
at his for once neglected desk. ^^Nay, must I ever dare to 
tell her of my love? A flourishing engineer, with his name 
up in the world, and half a score important undertakings in 
progress, might be deemed a fitting match for her by her 
people at the Bed Court ; but what would they say to me ? I 
am not to be called flourishing yet ; my great works I must 
be content to wait for; they will come; I can foresee it; but 
before then some man with settlements and a rent-roll may 
have stepped in.” 

It was not a strictly comforting prospect certainly, put in 
this light ; and Mr. Hunter gave an impatient twist to some 
papers. But he could not this morning settle down to work, 
and the meditations began again. 

I know she loves me ; I can see it in every turn of her 
beautiful face, hear it in every tone of her voice. This eve- 
ning I shall see her; this evening I shall see her! Oh, 
the ” 

‘^Mr. Barty is here, sir.” 

The interruption came from a clerk ; it served to recal his 
master to wdiat he so rarely forgot, the business of every-day 
life. Mr. Barty was an eminent contractor, and Bobert Hun- 
ter’s hopes went up to fever-heat as he welcomed him. One 
great work entrusted to him from this great man, and the 
future might be all plain sailing. 

He was not wholly disappointed. Mr. Barty had come to 
offer him business; or rather, to pave the way for it; for the 
offer was not positively entered on then, only the proposed 
work — a new line of rail — discussed. There was one draw- 
back — it was a line abroad — and Bobert Hunter did not much 
like this. 

Mary Anne Thornycroft had not many friends in London ; 
nearly all her holidays during tlie half-year had been passed 
at Mrs. Macpherson’s. Susan Hunter invariably accompanied 
her; and what more natural than that Bobert should (invited, 
or uninvited, as it might happen) drop in to meet his sister ? 
There had lain the whole thing — the intercourse afforded by 
these rather frequent meetings — and nothing more need be 
said ; they had fallen in love vyith one another. 


264 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Yes. The singular attraction each had seemed to possess 
for the other the first time they met, but increased with every 
subsequent interview. It liad not needed many. Mary Anne 
Thornycroft, who liad scarcely ever so much as read of the 
name of love, had lost her heart to this young man, the 
widower Robert Hunter, entirely and hopelessly. That he 
was — at any rate at present — no suitable match for her, she 
never so much as glanced twice at : the Thornycrofts were not 
wont to regard expediency when it interfered with inclination. 
Not a word had been spoken ; not a hint given ; but there is 
a language of the heart, and they had become versed in it. 
Clever Mrs. Macpherson, so keen-sighted generally in the 
affairs of men and women, never so much as gave a thought 
to what was passing under her very eyes ; Miss Hunter, who 
had discernment too, was totally blind here. As to the pro- 
fessor, with his spectacled eyes up aloft in the sky or buried 
in the earth, it would have been far too much to suspect him 
of seeing it. A very delightful state of things for the lovers. 

When Robert Hunter reached Mrs. Macpherson's that dark 
December evening, he saw nobody in the drawing-room. He 
had been invited to dinner; five o’clock sharp, Mrs. Mac- 
pherson told him ; for the professor had an engagement at six 
which would keep him out, and she did not intend that he 
should depart dinnerlesS. 

This w^as Miss Thornycroft’s farewell visit; in two days 
she was going home for Christmas, not again to return to 
school. She had invited Susan Hunter (who would remain at 
school until March), to come down during the holidays and 
spend a week at the Red Court Farm ; and her brother was to 
accompany her. 

It wanted a quarter to fire when Mr. Hunter entered. The 
drawing-room was not lighted, and at first he thought no one 
was in it. The large fire had burned down to red embers; as 
he stood before it, his head and shoulders reflected in the pier- 
glass, he (perhaps unconsciously) ran his hand through his 
hair — hair that was darker than it used to be ; the once deep 
auburn had become a reddish-brown, and — and — some grey 
threads mingled with it. 

“ How vain you are ! ” 

He started round at the sound — it was the voice he loved so 
well. Half buried in a lounging chair in the darkest corner 
was she. She came forward, laughing.. 


IN LOVE. 


265 


I did not see you,” he said, taking her hand. “ You are 
here alone ! ” 

A conscious blush tinged her cheeks ; she knew that she 
had stayed in the room to wait for him. 

Theji^ have gone somewhere, Susan and Mrs. Macpherson 
— to see a new cat of the professor’s, I think. I have seen so 
many of those stuffed animals.” 

When do you go down home ? ” 

^^The day after to-morrow. Susan has fixed the second 
week in January for her visit. Will that time suit you? ” 

“ The time might suit,” he replied, with a slight stress on 
the word time,” as if there were something else that might 
not. ‘^Unless, indeed ” 

Unless what ? ” 

‘^Unless I should have left England, I was going to say. 
An offer has been made me to-day — or rather, to speak more 
correctly, an intimation that an offer is about to be made me — 
of some work abroad. If I accept it, it will take me away for 
a couple of years.” 

She glanced up, and their eyes met. A yearning look of 
love, of dire tribulation at the news, shone momentarily in 
hers. Then they were bent on the carpet, and Mr. Hunter 
looked at the fire — the safest place just then. 

Are you obliged to accept it ? ” she inquired. 

Of course not. But it would be very much to my advan- 
tage. It would pave the way for — for ” He hesitated. 

For what ? ” 

Wealth and honors. I mean such honors (all might not 
call them so), as are open to one of my profession.” 

A wdiole array of sentences crowded into her mind — ^beg- 
ging him not to go ; what would the days be without the sun- 
shine of his presence ? The}^ should be far enough apart as 
things were ; he in London, she at home ; — but the other sep- 
aration hinted at would be like all that was good in life djdng 
out. This, and a great deal more, lay in her thoughts ; what 
she said, however, was cold and quiet enough. 

In the event of 3^our remaining at home, then, the second 
week in J anuary would suit you ? It is Susan who has fixed 
it.” 

Hot immediately did he reply. Since the first intimation 
of this visit to Coastdowii, a feeling of repugnance to it had 
lain within him ; an instinct, whenever he thought of it, 


266 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


warning him against accepting it. Ah ! believe me, these in- 
stinctive warnings come to us. They occur oftener than we, 
in our carelessness, think for. Perhaps vot one in ten of them 
is ever noticed, still less heeded ; we go blindly on in disregard ; 
and, when ill follows, scarcely ever remember that the warning 
voice, if attended to, would have saved us. 

Just as Robert Hunter disregarded this. But for his visit, 
destined to take place at the time proposed, the great tragedy 
connected with the Red Court Farm had never taken place. 

Stronger than ever was the deterring warning on him this 
evening. He said to himself that his repugnance lay in the 
dislike to be a guest in any house that Lady Ellis was con- 
nected with ; never so much as thinking of any other cause. 
He fully assumed there would be no chance of meeting her- 
self : he knew she lived in Cheltenham. Miss Thorny croft 
had once or twice casually mentioned her stepmother’s name 
in his presence, but he liad not pursued the topic ; and the 
young lady did not know that they had ever met. 

You do not reply to me, Mr. Hunter. Would the time be 
inconvenient for you ? ” 

“ It is not that,” he answered, speaking rather dreamily. 
“ But — I am a stranger to your father : would he like me to 
intrude, uninvited by himself ? ” 

“ It would be a strange thing if I could not invite a dear 
school friend, as Susan is, down for a week, and you to accom- 
pany her,” returned Miss Thornycroft, rather hotly. “ You 
need not fear ; papa is the most hospitable man living. They 
keep almost open house at home.” 

You have brothers,” returned Mr. Hunter, seeking for 
some further confronting argument. At which suggestion a 
ray of anger came into Miss Thornycroft’s blue haughty eyes. 

As if my brothers would concern themselves with me or 
my visitors ! They go their way, and I intend to go mine.” 

“ Your stepmother ” 

She is nobody,” quickly interposed Miss Thornycroft, mis- 
taking what he was about to say. Lady Ellis lives in Chel- 
tenham. She is ill, and Coastdown does not suit her.” 

“ Why does she still call herself Lady Ellis ? ” he asked, 
the question having before occurred to him. 

It is her whim. What does it signify ? She is one of 
the most pretentious women you can imagine, Mr. Hunter — 
quite a parvenu, as I have always felt — and ^my lady ’is 
sweeter to her ears than ^ madam.’ ” 


IN LOVE. 


267 


What is it that is the matter with her ? ” 

^^It is some inward complaint; I don’t quite understand 
what. The last time I saw my brother Cyril, he told me she 
was growing worse ; that there was not the least hope of her 
cure.” 

She does not come to the Red Court ? ” 

No, tliank fortune ! She has not been there at all during 
this past year. I believe she is now too ill to come.” 

Mr. Hunter glanced at the speaker with a smile. You do 
not seem to like her.” 

“ Like her ! Like Lady Ellis ! I do not think I could pre- 
tend to like her if she were dead. You do not know her.” 

A flush of remembrance darkened the brow of Robert 
Hunter. Time had been when he knew enough of her. 

She is a crafty, wily, utterly selfish woman,” pursued Miss 
Thornycroft, who very much enjoyed a fling at her stepmother. 
“ How ever papa came to be taken in by her — but I don’t 
care to talk of thatP 

She seized the poker and began to crack the fire into a 
blaze. Mr. Hunter took it from her, and he adroitly kept her 
hand in his. 

^^Plad she been a different woman, good and kind, she 
might have won me over to love her. The Red Court wanted 
a mistress at that time, as papa thought ; and, to confess it, so 
did 1. A little self-willed, perverse girl I was, rebellious to 
my French governess, perpetually getting into scrapes, run- 
ning wild indoors and out.” 

Entirely unconscious was Miss Thornycroft how mistaken 
f was one of her assumptions — “ papa thought the Red Court 
wanted a mistress.” Mr. Thornycroft had been rather too 
conscious that it did not want one, looking at it from his point 
of view ; though his daughter did. 

“Ah, well ; let bygones "be bygones. You will promise to 
come, Mr. Hunter? ” 

“ Yes,” he answered, in teeth of the voice that seemed to 
haunt him. “If I have not gone away from England on this 
expedition, I will come.” 

“ Thank you,” she said, with a soft flush. 

Pie turned and looked fully at her. Her hand was in his, 
for he had not relinquished it. Only about half a minute had 
he held it ; it takes longer to tell these things than to act 
them. 1 he poker was in his other hand, and he put it down 


233 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


with. a clatter, which prevented their hearing the footsteps of 
Mrs. Macpherson on the soft carpet outside. The discreet 
matron, glancing through the partially open door, took tlie 
view of what she saw with her keen brain, and stood trans- 
fixed. 

“My heart alive, is there anything between them?^^ ran 
her surprised thoughts. “ Well, that would be a go ! Robert 
Hunter ain’t no match for her father’s child. Pland in hand, 
be they ! and his eyes dropped on her face as if he was a- 
hungering to eat it. Not in this house, my good gentleman.” 

With a cough and a shuffling, as if the carpet had got 
entangled with her feet, Mrs. Macpherson made her advent 
known. When she advanced into the room the position of 
the parties had changed : he was at one corner of the fire- 
place, she at the other, silent, demure, innocent-looking both 
of them as two doves. 

Not a word said Mrs. Macpherson. Miss Hunter came in, 
the professor followed, the announcement of dinner followed 
him. And somehow there arose no further opportunity for as 
much as a hand-shake between the suspected pair. But on 
the next day. Mrs. Macpherson drove round to Miss Jupp’s, 
and made to that lady a communication. 

“I don’t say as it is so. Miss Jupp; mind that; their 
fingers might have got together accidental. I am bound to 
say that I never noticed nothing between ’em before. But 
I’m a straight-forward body, liking to go to the root o’ things 
at first with folks, and do as I’d be done by. And goodness 
only knows what might have become of us if I’d not been, 
with the prefessor’s brain a-lodging up in the skies ! I’ll go 
to Miss Jupp, says I to myself last night; and here I am.” 

“ I think — I hope that it is quite unlikely,” said Miss 
Jupp; beginning, however, to feel uncomfortable. 

“So do I. I’ve told you so. But it was my place to come 
and put 3mu on your guard. I declare to goodness that never 
a thought of such a thing struck me, or you may be sure I’d 
not have had Robert Hunter to my house when she was there. 
‘ When the steed’s stole, one locks the stable door.’ ” 

“ Miss Hunter tells me that she and her brother are going 
to spend a week at Coastdown.” 

“ And so much the better,” said Mrs. Macpherson, emphati- 
cally. “ If there is anything between ’em, her folks won’t 
fail to see it, and they can act accordingly. And now that 
I’ve done my duty, and had my say. I’ll be going.” 


IN LOVE. 


269 


Thank you,” said Miss Jupp. Is the professor well ?” 

As well as getting up at three o’clock on a winter’s morn- 
ing and starting off in the dark and cold ’ll let him be,” was 
the response. I told him last night he shouldn’t go ; there’s 
no sense in such practices ; but he wouldn’t listen. It’s 
astronomicals this time.” 

Watching her departure, remaining for a few minutes in 
undecisive thought, Miss Jupp at length made up her mind to 
speak, and sent for Mary Anne Thornycroft. No prevision 
was on the young lady’s mind of the lecture in store ; upright, 
elegant, beautiful, in she swept and stood calmly before her 
governess. Miss Jupp spoke considerately, making light of 
the matter, merely saying that Mrs. Macpherson thought she 
and Mr. Hunter were rather fond of talking ” together. “ I 
thought it as well just to mention it to you, my dear ; school- 
girls — and you are but one as yet, you know — should always 
be reticent.” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft’s haughty blue ^yes, raised in 
general so fearlessly, drooped before Miss J upp’s gaze, and her 
face turned to a glowing crimson. Only for a moment : the 
next she was looking up again, meeting the gaze and answer- 
ing with straightforward candor. 

‘^Nothing has ever passed between me and Mr. Hunter 
that Mrs. Macpherson might not have heard and seen. I like 
Mr. Hunter very much. I have frequently met him there ; 
but why should Mrs. Macpherson seek to make mischief out 
of that ? ” 

My dear girl, she neither seeks to make mischief nor has 
she made any. All I would say to you — leaving the past — is 
a word of caution. At your age, with your good sense, you 
cannot fail to be aware that it is advisable young ladies should 
be circumspect in their choice of acquaintances. A mutual 
inclination is sometimes formed, which can never lead to 
fruition, only to unhappiness.” 

Mary Anne did not answer, and the eyes dropped again. 

“ I have a great mind to tell you a little episode of my 
life,” resumed poor Miss Jupp, her cheeks faintly flushing. 

Such an inclination as I speak of arose between me and one 
with whom, many years ago when out on a visit, I was brought 
into daily contact. We learnt to care for each other as much 
as it is possible for people to care in this world. So much so, 
that when it was all past and done with, and I received an ex- 


270 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


cellent proposal of marriage, I could not accept it. That early 
attachment was tlie blight of my life, Mary Anne. Instead 
of being a poor school-mistress, worried with many anxieties— 
a despised old maid — I should now have been a good man’s 
wife, the mistress of a prosperous home.’’ 

Miss Jupp kept her rising tears down; but Mary Anne 
Thornj^croft’s eyes were glistening. 

And that first one, dear Miss Jupp : could you not have 
married him ? ” 

^^No, my dear. Truth to tell, he never asked me. He 
dared not ask me ; it would have been quite unsuitable. Be- 
lieve me, many an unmarried woman could give you the same 
history nearly word for word. Hence you see how necessary 
it is to guard against an intimacy with unsuitable acquaintan- 
ces.” 

And you put Mr. Hunter into the catalogue ? ” returned 
Miss Thornycroft, affecting to speak lightly. 

Most emphatically — as considered in relation to you,” was 
Miss Jupp’s answer. Your family will expect you to marry 
well, and jmu owe it to them to do so. Mr. Hunter is in every 
respect unsuitable. Until recently he was only a clerk; he 
has his own way to carve yet in the world ; he is much older 
than you ; and — he has been already married.” 

“ Of course I know all that,” said Miss Thornycroft, with 
the deepest color that had yet come over her. But don’t you 
think, ma’am, it would have been quite time to remind me of 
this when circumstances called for it ? ” 

Perhaps not. At any rate, my dear, the warning can do 
you no harm. If unrequired in regard to Mr. Hunter — as in- 
deed I believe it to be — it may serve you in the future.” 

Miss Jupp said no more. ‘‘I have put it strong,” she 
thought to herself, as the young lady curtsied and left the 
room. It was well to do so.” 

Engineers rise to honors, as he said, and I know he is 
going on for them,” quoth Mar}^ Anne Thornycroft, with char- 
acteristic obstinacy, slowly walking along the passage. I 
should never care for anyone else in the w’orld. As to money, 
I daresay I shall have plenty of that ; so will he when he has 
become famous.” 

They travelled to Coastdown together — Isaac Thorn^^croft 
and his sister, Mrs. Copp and Anna Chester, as we must con- 
tinue to call her — by a pleasant coincidence, as it was deemed 


IN LOVE. 


271 




by Miss Thornycroffc. Mrs. Copp, living upon tliorns — but 
til at is a ver^^ faint figure of speech to express that timid 
ladj^’s state of mind — was ready some diiys before, but had to 
await the arrival of Anna. Isaac kept her out longer than 
the week, getting back just in time to take charge of his 
sister. 

As the}’’ sat in the carriage together, what a momentous 
secret it was that three of them held, and had to conceal from 
the fourth ! If Anna’s eyes were bright with happiness, her 
cheeks looked pale with apprehension ; and Mrs. Copp might 
’well shiver, and lay it upon the frost. Not so Isaac. Easy, 
careless, gay, was he — every inch a bridegroom.” After all, 
there was not so very much for him to dread. It w’as expedi- 
ent to keep his marriage secret, if it could be kept so; if not, 
why he must face the explosion at hom.e as he best could: the 
precautions he had taken would ward off reproach from his 
wife. 

“Here’s Jutpoint!” exclaimed Mary Anne Thornycroft. 
“ How glad I am to come back ! ” 

“ How glad I should be if I were going away from it ! ” 
thought poor Mrs. Copp. 

As they were getting out of the carriage, Isaac contrived to 
put his arm before Anna, an intimation that he wanted to 
detain her. The others were suffered to go on. 

“What makes you look so pale ? ” 

“ Oh, Isaac ! can you ask ? Your father — ni}^ uncle — may 
be here waiting for us. I feel sick and faint at the thought of 
meeting them.” 

“ But there’s no reason in the world why you should. One 
minute after seeing them the feeling will wear off. Ce n’est 
que le premier pas qui coute.” 

If they should suspect ! — if they should have heard ! It 
seems to me people need only look in my face to learn all. I 
have never once met your sister’s eyes freely in coming 
down.” 

He laughed lightly. “ Eeassure yourself, my darling. 
There’s no fear that it will be known one hour before we 
choose it should be.” 

“ I am remembering always that stories may get abroad 
about me.” 

“ What you have to remember is that you are my honest 
wdfe,” gravely returned Isaac. “ I told Mrs. Copp — I have 


272 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


told you — that on the faintest breath of a wliisper, I should 
avow the truth. You cannot doubt it, Anna ; nothing in the 
world can be so precious to me as ni}- wife’s fair fame. Tliey 
are looking back for us. God bless you, my darling, and fare- 
well. For the present, you know — and that’s the worst of the 
whole matter — ^you are not my wife, but Miss Chester.” 


CHAPTEE XX. 

■WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. 

Mart Ann Thornycroft sat in the large, luxurious, com- 
fortable drawing-room of the Eed Court Farm. The skies 
without were grey and wdntry, the air was cold, the sea was 
of a dull leaden color ; but with that cheery fire blazing in 
the grate, the soft chairs and sofas scattered about, the fine 
pictures, the costly ornaments, things were decidedly bright 
within. Brighter a great deal than the young lady’s face 
was ; for something had just occurred to vex her. She was 
leaning back in her chair ; her foot, peeping out from be- 
neath the folds of her flowing dress, impatientl}' tapping the 
carpet : angry determination written on every line of her 
countenance. Between herself and Eichard there had just oc- 
curred a passage at arms — as is apt to be the case with broth- 
er and sister, when each has a dominant and unyielding will. 

At home for good. Miss Thornycroft had assumed her post 
as mistress of the house in a spirit of determination that said 
she meant to maintain it. The neighbors came flocking to see 
the handsome girl, a woman grown now. She had attained 
her nineteenth year. They found a lady-like, agreeable girl, 
with Cyril’s love for reading, Isaac’s fair skin and beautiful 
features, and Eichard’s resolute tone and lip. Very soon, 
within a week of her return, the servants whispered to each 
other that Miss Thornycroft and her brothers had already 
begun their quarrelling, for both sides wanted the mastery. 
They should have said her brother — very seldom indeed was it 
that Isaac interfered with her — Cyril never. 

She had begun by attempting to set to rights matters that 


WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. 


273 


probably never would be set right; regularity in regard to the 
serving of the meals. The}'' set all regularity at defiance, 
especially on the point of coming in to them. They might 
come, or they might not ; they might sit down at the appointed 
houi’ij or they might appear an hour after it. Sometimes the 
dinners were simple, oftener elaborate ; to-day they would be 
alone, to-morrow six or eight unexpected guests, invited on the 
spur of the moment, would sit down to table ; just as it had 
been in the old days. Mr. Thornycroft’s love of free-and-easy 
hospitality had not changed. To remedy this^ Mary Anne 
did not attempt — it had grown into a usage ; but she did wish 
to make Kichard and Isaac pay more attention to decorum. 

^^They cannot be well-conducted, these two brothers of 
mine,’^ soliloquized Miss Thornycroft, as she continued to tap 
her impatient foot. ^^And papa winks at it. I think they 
must have acquired a love for low companions. I hear of 
their going into the public-house, and, if not drinking them- 
selves, standing treat for others. Last night they came in 
to dinner in their velveteen coats, and gaiters all mud — after 
keeping it waiting for five-and-forty minutes. I spoke about 
their clothes, and papa — papa took their part, saying it was 
not to be expected that young men engaged in agriculture, 
could dress themselves up for dinner like a lord-in-waiting. 
It’s a shame ! ” 

E/ichard and Isaac did indeed appear to be rather loose 
young men in some things ; but their conduct had not 
changed from what it used to be — the change lay in Miss 
Thornycroft. What as a girl she had not seen or noticed, she 
now, a young 'woman come home to exact propriety after the 
manner of well-conducted young ladies, saw at once, and put a 
black mark against. Their dogcart, that ever-favorite vehicle, 
would be heard going out and coming in at all sorts of unsea- 
sonable hours ; wheu Eichard and Isaac lay abed till twelve 
(the case occasionally) Miss Thornycroft would contrive to 
gather that they had not gone to it until nearly daylight. 

The grievance this morning, however, was not about any of 
these things ; it concerned a more personal matter of Miss 
Thornycroft’s. While she was reading a letter from Susan 
Hunter, fixing the day of the promised visit, Eichard came in. 
He accused her of expecting visitors, and flatly ordered her to 
write and stop their coming. A few minutes of angry con- 
tention ensued, neither side giving way in the smallest de- 


274 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


gree: she said her friends should come, Richard said they 
should not. He strode away to find his father. The justice 
was in tlie four-acre paddock with his gun. 

‘^This girl’s turning the house upside down,’’ began Rich- 
ard. We shall not be able to keep her at home.” 

What girl ? Do you mean Mary Anne ? ” 

There’s nobody else I should mean,” returned the young 
man, who was not more remarkable for courtesy of speech, even 
to his father, than he used to be. I’d pretty soon shell out 
anybody else who came interfering. She has gone and in- 
vited some fellow and his sister down to stay for a week, she 
saj^s. We can’t have prying people here just now.” 

Don’t fly in a flurry, Dick. That’s the worst of you.” 

^^Well, sir, I think it should be stopped. For the next 
month, you know — ” 

Yes, yes, I know,” interposed the justice. Of course.” 

Alter that, it would not so much matter,” continued Rich- 
ard. Not but that it would be an exceedingly bad prece- 
dent to allow it at all. If she begins to invite visitors here 
at will, there’s no knowing what tlie upshot might be.” 

I’ll go and speak to her,” said Mr. Thornycroft. Here, 
take tlie gun, Dick.” 

Walking slowly, giving an eye to different matters as he 
passed, speaking a word here, giving an order there, tlie justice 
went on after the fashion of a man whose mind is at ease. It 
never occurred to him that his daughter would dispute his 
will. 

“ What is all this, Mary Anne ? ” he demanded, when he 
reached her. Richard tells me you have been inviting some 
people to stay here.” 

Miss Thornycroft rose respectful l3\ 

So I have, papa. Susan Hunter was my great friend at 
school; she is remaining therefor the holidays, which of course 
is very dull, and I asked her to come here for a week. Her 
brother will bring her.” 

‘^They cannot come,” said Mr. Thornycroft. 

Not come ! ” 

^‘No. You must understand one thing, Mary Anne— that 
you are not at liberty to invite people indiscriminately to the 
Red Court. I cannot sanction it.” 

A hard look of resentment crossed her face; opposition 
never answered with the Thornycrofts, Cyril excepted : he was 
just as yielding as the rest were obstinate. 


WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. 275 

have invited them, papa. The time for the visit is 
fixed, the arrangements are made.^^ 
tell you, thej^ cannot come.’^ 

^^Not if E-ichard’s whims are to he studied,^’ returned Miss 
Thornjxroft, angrily, for she had lost her temper. Do you 
wish me to live on in this house for ever, papa, without a soul 
to speak to, save my brothers and the servants? And cordial 
companions they are,^^ added the young lady, alluding to the 
former, ^^out, out, out, as they are, night after night ! I 
should like to know where it is they go to. Perhaps I could 
find out if I tried.’’ 

A fanciful person might have thought that Mr. Thorny- 
croft started. Daughter ! ” he cried, in a hoarse whisper, 
hoarse with passion, hold your peace about your brothers. 
What is it to you where they go or what they do ? Is it 
seemly for you, a girl to trouble yourself about the doings of 
young men ? Are 3"ou going to turn out a firebrand amongst 
us? Take care that you don’t set the Eed Court alight.” 

The words might have struck her as strange, might in- 
deed have imparted a sort of undefined fear, but that she 
was so filled with anger and resentment as to leave no room 
for other impressions. Nevertheless, there was that in her 
father’s face and eye which warned her it would not do to op- 
pose him now, and her rejoinder was spoken more civilly. 

‘‘ Do jmu mean, papa, that you will never allow me to have 
a visitor ? ” 

I do not say that. But I must choose the times and sea- 
sons. This companion of yours may come a month later, if 
yow. wish it so, very much. Not her brother. We have 
enough young men in the house of our own. And I suppose 
you don’t care for him.” 

Miss Thornj^croft would have liked to say that he was the 
one for whom she did care — not the sister — but that was in- 
expedient. A conscious flush dyed her face ; which Mr. 
Tliornycroft attributed to pain at her wish being opposed. 
He had not yet to learn how difficult it was to turn his daugh- 
ter from any whim on which she had set her will. 

“Write to-day and stop their coming. Tell Miss 

what’s the name ? ” 

“ Hunter,” was the sullen answer. 

“ Tell Miss Hunter that it is not convenient to receive her 
at the time arranged, but that you hope to see her later. And 


276 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


— another word, Mary Anne,” added Mr. Thornycroft, 
pausing in the act of leaving the room ; a word of caution ; 
let your brothers alone ; their movements are no business of 
yours, neither must you make it such. Shut your eyes and 
ears to all that does not concern you, if you want to live in 
peace un’der my roof.” 

Shut my eyes and ears ? ” she repeated, looking after 
him, that I never will. I can see how it is — papa has lived 
so long under the domineering of Richard that he yields to 
him as a habit. It is less trouble than opposing him. Rich- 
ard is the most selfish man alive. He thinks if we had visit- 
ors staying at the court, he must be a little more civilized in 
dress and other matters, and he does not choose to be so. For 
no other reason has he set his face against their coming; 
there can be no other. But I will show him that I have a 
will as well as he, and as good a right to exercise it.” 

Even as Miss Thornycroft spoke, the assertion, there can 
be no other,” rose up again in her mind, and she paused to 
consider whether it was strictly in accordance with facts. But 
no ; look on all sides as she would, there appeared to be no 
other reason whatever, or shadow of reason. It was just a 
whim of Richard’s ; who liked to act, in small things as in 
great, as though he were the master of the Red Court Farm — 
a whim which Miss Thornycroft was determined not to gratify. 

And, flying in the face of the direct command of her father, 
she did not write to stop her guests. 

The contest had not soothed her, and she put on her things 
to go out. The day was by no means inviting, the air was 
raw and chill, but Miss Thornycroft felt dissatisfied with home. 
Turning off by the plateau towards the village, the house in- 
habited by Tomlett met her view. It brought to her remem- 
brance that the man was said to have received some slight 
accident, of which she had only heard a day or two ago. 
More as a diversion to her purposeless steps than anything 
else, she struck across to inquire after him. Mrs. Tomlett, an 
industrious little woman with a red face and shrill voice, as 
you may remember, stood at the kitchen table as Miss Thorny- 
croft approached the open door, peeling potatoes. Down went 
the knife. 

Don’t disturb yourself, Mrs. Tomlett. I hear your hus- 
band has met with some hurt. How was it done ? ” 

For a woman of ordinary nerve and' brain, Mrs. Tomlett 


WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. 


277 


decidedly showed herself wanting in self-possession at the 
question. It seemed to scare her. Looking here, looking 
there, looking everywhere like a frightened bird, she mumbled 
out some indistinct answer. Miss Thornycroft had seen her 
so on occasions before, and as a girl used to laugh at her. 

When did it happen, Mrs. Tomlett ? 

Last week, miss ; that is, last month — last fortnight I 
meant to say,^^ cried Mrs. Tomlett, hopelessly perplexed. 

What the accident continued Miss Thornycroft. 

Well, it was a — a — a pitching of himself down the stairs, 
miss.^’ 

Down which stairs ? This house has no stairs.^^ 

Mrs. Tomlett looked to the different points of the room as 
if to assist her remembrance that the house had none. 

Ho, miss, true ; it wasn’t stairs. He got hurted some 
wa}^,” added the woman, in a pang of desperation. I never 
kno^xd clear how. When they brought him home — a carry- 
ing of him — his head up, as one might say, and his legs down, 
my sense was clean frightened out o’ me ; what they said and 
what they didn’t say, I couldn’t remember after no more nor 
nothing. May be ’twas out o’ the tallet o’ the Ded Court 
stables he fell, miss : I think it was.” 

Miss Thornycroft thought not ; she should have heard of 
that. Where was he hurt ? ” she asked. In t]^ leg, was 
it not ? ” ^ 

“’Twas in the arm. Miss,” responded Mrs. Tomlett. 
“ Leastways, in the ankle.” 

The young lady stared at her as a natural curiosity. “ Was 
it in both, Mrs. Tomlett ? ” 

Well, yes, Mrs. Tomlett thought it might be in both. His 
side also had got grazed. Her full opinion was, if she might 
venture to express it, that he had done it a climbing up into 
his boat. One blessed thing was — no bones was broke. 

Miss Thornycroft laughed, and thought she might as well 
leave her to the peeling of the potatoes, the interruption to 
which essential duty had possibly driven her senses away. 

“ At any rate, whatever the hurt, I hope he will soon be 
about again,” she kindly said, as she went out. 

“ Which he is a’mostthat a’ ready,” responded Mrs. Tomlett, 
standing on the threshold to curtsey to her guest. 

Ho sooner was the door shut than Tomlett, a short, strong, 
dark man, with a seal-skin cap on, and his right arm bandaged 


278 .- 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


up, came limping out of an inner room. The first thing he 
did was to glare at his wife ; the second, to bring his left hand 
in loud contact with the small round table so effectually that 
the potatoes went flying off it. 

Now ! what do you think of yourself for a decent 
woman ? 

Mrs. Tomlett sat down on a chair and began to cry. It 
took to me, Ben, it did — it took to me awful, she said, depre- 
catingly, in the midst of her tears ; “I never knowed as news 
of the hurt had got abroad.’^ 

Do you suppose there ever was such a born fool afore as 
you?^^ again demanded Mr. Tomlett, in a slow, subdued, 
ironical, fearfully telling tone. 

“When she come straight in with the querj^ — what was 
Tomlett’s hurt and how were it done ? — my poor body set on a 
twittering, and my head went clean out o’ me,” pleaded Mrs. 
Tomlett. 

“A pity but it had gone clean off ye,” growled the strong- 
minded husband ; “ Tain’t o’ no good o/i.” 

“ What were I to say, took at a pinch like that ? I couldn’t 
tell the truth ; you know that, Tomlett.” 

- “ Yes, you could ; you might ha’ told enough on ’t to satisfy 
her : — ^ He was at work, and he fell and hurt hisself.” Warn’t 
that enoujjh for any reasonable woman to say? And if she’d 
asked whSe he fell, you might ha’ said you didn’t know. Not 
you ! He ^ throwed hisself down the stairs,’ when there ain’t 
no stairs to the place ; he ‘ fell out o’ the tallet ; ’ he ^ done it a 
climbing up into his boat ! ’ Yah ! ” 

“ Don’t be hard upon me, Tomlett, don’t.” 

“ ^ And the hurt,’ she asked, ^ was that in the leg ? ’ ” mer- 
cilessly continued Mr. Tomlett. “ ‘ No, it wern’t in the leg, it 
were in the arm, leastways, in the ankle,’ says you ; and a fine 
bobbin o’ contradiction that must ha’ sounded to her. Yah 
again ! Some women be born fools, and some makes their- 
selves into ’em.” 

“ It were through knowing you’d get a listening, Tomlett. 
Nothing never scares the wits out o’ me like that. When I 
see the door open a straw’s breadth, I knew your ear was at it ; 
and what with her afore me talking, and you ahind me listen- 
ing, I didn’t know the words I said no more nor if it wasn’t 
me that spoke ’em. Do what I will, I’m blowed up.” 

“ Blowed up ! ” amiably repeated Mr. Tomlett ; “ if you was 


WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. *279 

the wife o’ some persons, you’d get the blowing up and some- 
thing atop of it. Go on with them taturs.” 

Leaving them to their domestic bliss and occupations— 
though from the above interlude Tomlett must not be judged : 
he made in general a good husband, only he had been so terri- 
bly put out — we will go after Miss Thornycroft. As she struck 
in to the road again she saw Anna Chester talking to one 
of her two elder brothers, it was too far off to distinguish 
wliich ; and indeed Richard and Isaac were so much alike in 
figure, that the one was often taken for the other. That it 
was the latter. Miss Thornycroft judged ; there appeared to be 
a sorb of intimacy — a friendsliip — between Isaac and Anna 
that she by no means approved of, and Isaac had taken to go 
rather often to Captain Copp’s. 

Anna came on alone ; her gentle face beaming, her pretty 
lips breaking into smiles. But Miss Thornycroft was cold. 

Whicli of my brothers were you talking to ? ” 

It was Isaac,” answered Anna, turning her face away, for 
the trick of coloring crinison at Isaac’s name, acquired since 
her return, was all too visible. 

Ah, 3^es, I knew it must be Isaac. What good friends 
you seem to be growing ! ” 

Do you think so? ” returned Anna, stooping to do some-' 
thing or other to her daintt" little boot, and speaking as lightly 
as the circumstances permitted. He stopped me to say that 
Captain Copp was going to dine at the Red Court this 
evening, and so asked if I would accompany him.” 

Oh, it’s to be one of their dinner gatherings this evening, 
is it?” replied Mary Anne, alluding to her brothers with her 
usual scant ceremony. Well, I hope you will come, Anna ; 
otherwise I shall not go in.” 

Thank you. Yes.” 

But look here. If you get telling Isaac things again that 
I tell you, you and I shall quarrel. What is he to you that 
you should do it ? ” 

Hot for a long while had Anna felt so miserably bewildered. 
She began ransacking her memor}^ for all she had said. At 
these critical moments, discovery seemed very near. 

This morning, Richard chose to question me about Susan 
Hunter’s coming down. He had heard of it from Isaac. How 
I had not mentioned it to Isaac, or to any one else at home : 
time enough for that when the day was fixed ; and Isaac could 
only have learned it from you.” 


280 


THE RED COURT F.\RM. 


« I_I am not sure— I can’t quite tell— it is possible I did 
mention it to him/’ stammered poor Anna. I did not think 
to do harm.” 

dare say not. But it has done harm ; it has caused no 
end of mischief and disturbance at home; and got me into 
what my brothers politely call a ^row.’ Kindly keep my 
affairs to yourself for the future, Anna.” 

She turned away with the last words, and the poor young 
wife, in a sea of perplexity and distress, continued her way. 
The life she was leading was exceedingly unsatisfactory ; 
never a moment save in some chance and transitory meeting 
in the village or on the heath, did she obtain one private word 
with Isaac. Isaac was rather a frequent dropper-in now at 
Captain Copp’s ; but the cautious sailor, remembering the 
warning liint of his mother, took care to afford no scope for 
private talking ; or, as he phrased it, sweethearting ; and Mrs. 
(Jopp — her terror of discovery being alwaj's fresh upon her 
guarded Anna zealously. Could she have had her way, they 
would have passed each other with a formal nod whenever 
the}^ met. 

“ Never ‘again,” murmured Anna. I must never again 
speal^ to him about his home — unless it be of what the whole 
world, knows. How I wish this dreadful state of things could 
terniinate ! I have heard of secrets — concealments wearing 
the life away ; I believe it now.” 

The former resident superintendent of the coast-guard, Mr. 
Dangerfield, had left Coastdown, and been replaced by Mr. 
Kyne. Private opinion ran that Coastdown had not changed 
for the best ; Mr. Supervisor Dangerfield (the official title 
awarded him by Coastdown) liaving been an easy, good- 
tempered, jolly kind of man, while Mr. Supervisor Kyne was 
turning out to be strict and fussy on the score of “duty.” 
Justice Thornycroft, the great man of the place, had received 
him well, and the new officer evidently liked the good cheer 
he was made welcome to at the Bed Court Farm. 

On this same morning Mr. Thornycroft, strolling out from 
his home, saw the supervisor on the plateau, and crossed the 
rails to join him. Mr. Kyne, a spare man of middle age, with 
a greyish sort of face and hair cut close to his head, stood on 
the extreme edge of the plateau, attentively scanning the sea. 
He slowly turned as Mr. Thornycroft approached. 

“Looking out for smugglers?” demanded the justice, jest- 


WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. 


281 


ingly. For this new superintendent had started the subject 
of smuggling soon after he came to Coastdown, avowing a 
suspicion that it was carried on ; the justice had received it 
with a fit of laughter, and lost no opportunity since of throw- 
ing ridicule on it. 

Shall I tell him or not ? ’’ mentally debated Mr. Kyne. 

Better not, perhaps, until we can get hold of something 
more positive. He would never believe it ; he would resent it 
as a libel on Coastdown.’^ 

The fact was, Mr. Kyne had received information some 
short while before, from what he considered a reliable source, 
that smuggling to a great extent carried on at Coastdown, 
or on some part of the coast lying nearly contiguous to it. 
He was redoubling his own watchfulness and his preventive 
precautions : to find out such a thing would be a great feather 
in his cap. 

You won’t ridicule me out of my conviction, sir.” 

^^Kot I,” said the justice ; I don’t want to.” 

I shall put a man on this plateau at night.” 

Mr. Thornycroft opened his eyes. What on earth for ? ” 

Well — I suspect that place below.” 

Suspect that place below!” repeated the justice, advanc- 
ing to the edge and looking down. What is there on it 
to suspect ? ” 

‘^Kothing — that’s the truth. But if contraband things are 
landed, that’s the most likely spot about. There is no other 
at all that I see where it could be done.” 

And so you look at it on the negative principle,” cried the 
justice, curling his lip. Don’t be afraid, Kyne. If the 
Half-moon had but a bale of smuggled goods on it, there it 
must be until you seized it. Is there a corner to hide it in, or 
facility for carrying it away ? ” 

“ That’s ^diat I sa}^ to myself,” rejoined Mr. Kyne. It’s 
the onl}^ thing that makes me easy.” 

Don’t, for humanity’s sake, leave your poor men here on a 
winter’s night ; it would be simply superfluous in the teeth of 
this impossibility 1 The cold on this bleak place might do for 
some of them before morning, or a false step in the dark send 
them over the cliff. Hot to speak of the ghost,” added the 
justice, with a grim smile. 

The surpervisor gave an impromptu grunt, as if the latter 
sentence had jarred on his nerves. 


282 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


That ghost tale is the worst part of it ! ’’ cried he. Cold 
they are used to, danger they don’t mind ; but there’s not one 
of them but shudders at the thought of seeing the ghost. I 
changed tlie men when I found how it was; sent the old ones 
awa^", and brought fresh ones here ; well, will you believe me, 
justice, that in two days after they came they were as bad as 
the old ones? That fellow, Tomlett, with two or three more 
that conjjregate at the Mermaid, have told them the wliole 
tale. I can hardly get ’em on here since, after nightfall— 
though it’s only to walk along the plateau and back again.” 

Mr. Thornycroft looked straight out before him. The 
supervisor noticed the grave change that had come to his face; 
and remembered that this, or some other superstitious fear, was 
said to have killed the late Mrs. Thornycroft. What with this 
story, what with the other deaths spoken of, taking their rise 
remotelv or unremotely in the ghost, what with the uncom- 
fortable" feeling altogether that these things left on the mind 
in dark and lonely moments, Mr. Supervisor Kyne might have 
confessed, had he been honest enough, to not caring to stay 
himself on the plateau at night. But for this fact, the place 
would have been better guarded, since his men, in spite of the 
• ghost, must have remained on duty. 

^^Do you happen to know a little inlet of a spot lying near 
to Jutpoint? ” asked Mr. Thorn3^croft. They say that used 
to be famous for smuggling in the old days. If any is carried 
on still — a thing to be doubted — there’s where you must look 
for it.” 

“ Ay, I’ve heard before of that place,” remarked the super- 
visor. “ They sa}^ it’s quiet enough now.” 

I should have supposed most places were,” said the justice, 
a mocking intonation again in his tone, which rather told on 
the ears it was meant for. “We revert to smuggling now as 
a thing of the past, not the present. What fortunes were 
made at it ! ” 

“ And lost,” said the supervisor. 

Mr. Thornycroft shrugged his shoulders. “ ere they ? 
Through bad management, then. Before that exposure of the 
custom-house frauds, both mercliants and officers lined their 
pockets. And do still, no doubt.” 

They were slowly walking together, side by side on the brow 
of the’plateau, as they talked. Mr. Thornycroft stole a glance 
at his companion. The supervisor’s face was composed and 
cold ; nothing to be gathered from it. 


WILFUL DISOBEDIENCE. 


283 


It has its charms, no doubt, this cheating of the revenue, 
resumed the justice. Were I a custom-house officer, and had 
the opportunity offered me, I might be tempted to embrace it. 
Look at the toil of these men — yours, for example — work, 
work, work and responsibility perpetually ; and then look at 
the miserable pittance of pay. Why, a man may serve (and 
generally does) until he’s fifty years of age, before he has 
enough salary doled out to him to keep his family in decent 
comfort.” 

That’s true,” was the answer; it keeps many of us from 
marrying. It has kept me.” 

Just so. One can’t wonder that illegitimate practices are 
considered justifiable. The world in its secret conscience 
exonerates you, I can tell you that, Mr. Supervisor.” 

Mr. .Supervisor walked along, measuring his steps, as if in 
thought ; but he did not answer. 

Why, how can it be otherwise ? ” continued the magis- 
trate, warming with his subject and his sympathy. Put the 
case before us for a moment as it used to be put. A merchant 
— Mr. Brown, let us say — has extensive dealings with con- 
tinental countries, and imports largely. Every ship-load that 
comes for him must pay a duty of four hundred pounds, more 
or less, to the customs. Brown speaks to the examining 
officer, ^ You wink at this ship-load, don’t see it ; and we’ll 
divide the duty between us ; you put two hundred in jSur 
pocket, and I’ll put two.’ Who is there among us that would 
not accede ? Hot many. It enables the poor, ill-paid gentle- 
man to get a few comforts ; and he does it.” 

Yes ; that is how many have been tempted.” 

And I say we cannot blame them. Ho man with a spark 
of humanity within his breast could give blame.* Answer for 
yourself, Kyne : were it possible that such a proposal could be 
made to you in these days, would you not fall in with it? ” 

^^Ho,” said the officer, in a low but decisive tone. I 
should not.” 

Ho ? ” repeated Mr. Thornycroft, staring at him. 

It killed my father.” 

Mr. Thornycroft did not understand. The supervisor, look- 
ing straight before him as if he were seeing past events in 
the distance, explained, in a voice that was no louder than a 
whisper. 

He was tempted exactly as you have described ; and 


284 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


yielded. When the exposures took place at the London 
Customs, he was one of the officers implicated, and made his 
escape abroad. There he died, yearning for the land to wliich 
he could not return. The French doctors said that unsatisfied 
yearning killed liim ; he had no other discoverable malady.” 

What a curious thing !” exclaimed Mr. Thornycroft. 

There were some private, unhappy circumstances mixed 
with it. One was, that his wife would not share in his exile. 
I could not ; I had already a place in the Customs. J ust be- 
fore he died I went over, and he extorted a solemn promise 
from me never to do as he had done. I never shall. FTo in- 
ducement possible to be offered would tempt me.” 

^‘It is a complete answer to the supposititious case pro- 
pounded,” said the Justice, laughing pleasantly. 

Supposititious, indeed ! ” remarked Mr. Kyne. It could 
not occur in these days.” 

‘‘ Certainly not. And therefore your theory of present 
smuggling must explode. I must be going. Will jon come 
in to-night and dine with us, Kyne ? Copp is coming, and a 
few more. We’ve got the finest turbot, the finest barrel of 
natives you ever tasted.” 

Inclination led Mr. Supervisor Kyne one way, duty another. 
He thought he ought not to accept it ; the dinners at the Red 
Court were always prolonged until midnight at least, and his 
mdh would be safe to go off the watch. But — a prime turbot ! 
and all the rest of it ! Mr. Kyne’s mouth watered. 

“ Thank you, sir ; ITl come.” 

The evening dinner-gathering took place. Mr. Kyne and 
others, invited to attend it, assembled in the usual unceremoni- 
ous fashion, and were ver}^ jolly to a late hour. Miss Thorny- 
croft and Anna sat down to table, quitting the gentlemen as 
soon as dinner was over. Ladies, as a rule, were never invited 
to these feasts, but if Miss Thornycroft appeared at table, the 
justice had no objection to her asking a companion to join her. 
Generally speaking, however, her dinner on these occasion was 
served to her alone. 

My darling, I am unable to take you home to-night ; I — I 
cannot leave my friends,” whispered Isaac, finding himself by 
a happy chance alone with Anna. Going into the drawing- 
room for a minute, he found his sister had temporarily left it 
to get a book. 

Sarah is coming for me.” 


THE HALF-MOON BEACH. 


285 


Yes, I know.^^ 

His arms pressed jealously round her for the first time 
since they parted, his face laid on hers, he took from her lips a 
shower of impassioned kisses. Only for a moment. The 
sweeping trail of Miss Thornycroft’s silk dress was even then 
heard. When slie entered, Anna sat leaning her brow upon 
her raised fingers ; Isaac was leaving the room, carelessly 
humming a scrap of a song. Yes, it was an unsatisfactory 
life at best— a wife and no wife ; a heavy secret to guard ; 
apprehension always.’’ 

The days went on. Miss Thornycroft, defiantly pursuing 
her own will, directly disobeying her father’s command, did 
not write to stop the arrival of her guests; and yet an oppor- 
tunity offered her of doing so. I fully believe that these 
opportunities of escape from the path of evil are ne^ly always 
afforded once at least in every fresh temptation, ^if we would 
but recognize and seize upon them. 

It wanted but two days to that of the expected arrival, 
when a hasty note was received from Miss Hunter saying she 
w^as prevented coming ; it concluded with these words : My 
brother is undecided what to do ; he thinks you will not want 
him without me. Please drop him just one line ; or if he 
does not hear he will take it for granted that you expect him.” 

There was an opportunity! — ^^Just one line,” and Mary 
Anne Tliorny croft would have had the future comfort of 
knowing that she had (in substance at least) obeyed her 
father. 

But she did not send it. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE HALF-MOON BEACH. 

Dodging about between the village and the Red Court 
Farm, went Miss Thornycroft. Her mind was not at rest. 
The day on which she had expected her guest — or rather, one 
of tliem — had passed. It was on Saturdaj^; here was Monday 
passing, and nobody had come. Each time the omnibus had 


286 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


arrived from Jutpoint, the young lady had not been far off. It 
had not brought anybody in whom she was interested. Forty- 
five minutes past three now ; ten minutes* more, and it would 
be in again. She was beginning to feel sick with emotional 
suspense. 

But, for all this dodging, Miss Thornycroft was a lady; and 
when the wlieels of the omnibus were at length heard, and it 
drew up at the Mermaid, she was at a considerable distance, 
apparently taking a cold stroll in the wintry afternoon. One 
passenger only got out ; she could see that ; and — was it 
Robert Hunter ? 

If so, he must be habited in some curious attire. Looking 
at him from this distance, he seemed to be all white and black. 
But, before he had moved a step ; while he was inquiring (as 
might be^i^erred) the way to the Bed Court Farm ; the wild 
beating ofmary Anne Thorny croft’s heart told her who it 
was. 

They met quietly enough, shaking hands calmly while he 
explained that he had been unable to get away on Saturday. 
Miss Thornycroft burst into a fit of laughter at the coat, 
partly genuine, partly put on to hide her tell-tale emotion. It 
was certainly a remarkable coat ; made of a smooth sort of 
white cloth, exceedingly heavy, and trimmed with black fur. 
The collar, the facings, the wrists and the back pockets had 
all a broad strip. He turned himself about for her inspec- 
tion, laughing too. 

^‘1 fear I shall astonish the natives. But I never had so 
warm a coat in my life. I got it from the professor.” 

‘‘ From the professor ! ” 

Mr. Hunter laughed. “Some crafty acquaintance of his, 
hard up, persuaded him into the purchase of two, money 
down, saying they had just come over from Russia — latest 
fashion. Perhaps they had ; perhaps they are. The professor 
does not go in for fashion, but he cannot refuse a request made 
to him on the plea of unmerited poverty, and all that. I hap- 
pened to be at his house when he brought them home in a 
cab. Yqu should have heard Mrs. Mac.” 

“ I should have liked to,” said Mary Anne. 

“ First of all she said she’d have the fellow taken up who 
h^d beguiled the professor into it ; next she said she’d pledge 
them. It ended in the professor making me a present of one 
ahd keeping the other.” 


THE HALF-MOON BEACH. 


287 


And yon are going to sport it liere ! ’’ • 

Better here tLan in London ; as a beginning. I thought 
it a good opportunity to get reconciled to myself in it. I 
should like to see the professor there when he goes out in his.^^ 
They mast have taken you for somebody in the train.^^ 
Yes/^ said Mr. Hunter. I and an old lady and gentle- 
man had the carriage to ourselves all the way. She evidently 
took me for a lord ; her husband for a card-sharper. But I 
think I shall like the coat.^^ 

Opinions might differ upon it — as did those of the old 
couple in the train. It was decidedly a handsome coat in it- 
self and had probably cost as much as the professor gave for 
it ; but, taken in conjunction with its oddity, some might not 
have elected to be seen wearing it. Mr. Hunter had brought 
no other ; his last 5^ear’s coat was much worn, and he had been 
about to get another when this came in his way. 

And what about Susan ? Miss Thornycroft asked. 

Susan is in Yorkshire. Her aunt — to whom she was left 
when my mother died — was taken ill, and sent for her. I do 
not suppose Susan will return to London.” 

“ Hot at all ? ” 

Mr. Hunter thought not. ^^It would be scarcely worth 
while : she was to have gone home in March.” 

Thus talking, they reached the Bed Court Farm. When 
its inmates saw him arrive, his portmanteau carried behind by 
a porter, they were thunderstruck. Mr. Thornycroft scarcely 
knew which to stare at most, him or his coat. Mary Anne 
introduced him with characteristic equanimity. Bichard 
vouchsafed no greeting in his stern displeasure, but the justice, 
a gentleman at heart, hospitablj^ inclined always, could do no 
less than bid him welcome. Cyril, quiet and courteous, shook 
hands with him ; and later, when Isaac came in, he grasped 
his hand warmly. 

There is no doubt that the learning he was a connection of 
Anna Chester’s (it could not be called a relative) tended to 
smooth matters. As the day passed on, Mr. Hunter grew 
upon their liking ; for his own sake he proved to be an agreea- 
ble companion ; and even Bichard fell into civility — an active, 
free, pleasant-mannered young fellow, as the justice called 
him, who made himself at home in-doors and out. 

Hever, since the bygone daj^s at Katterley, had Bobert 
Hunter deserved the character^ but in this brief holiday he 


288 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


could but^ive himself up to his perfect happiness. He made 
excursions to Jutpoiiit; he explored the cliffs; he went in at 
will to Captain Copp’s and the other houses on the heath ; he 
put out to sea witli the fishermen in the boats ; he talked to 
the wives in their huts ; everybody soon knew Robert Hunter, 
and especially his coat, which had become the marvel of 
Coastdown ; a few admiring it — a vast many abu^ng it. 

Miss Thornycroft was his frequent companion, and they 
went out unrestrained. It never appeared to have crossed the 
mind of Mr. Thornycroft or his sons as being within the 
bounds of possibility that this struggling young engineer, 
who was not known to the public repute as an engineer at all, 
could presume to be thinking of Mary Anne, still less that she 
could think. of him; otherwise they had been more cautious. 
Anna Chester was out with them sometimes, Cyril on occasion ; 
but they rambled about for the most part alone in the cold 
and frost, their spirits light as the rarefied air. 

The plateau and its superstition had no terror for Mr. 
Hunter, rather amusement : but that he saw — and saw with 
surprise — it was a subject of gravity at the Red Court, he 
might have made fun of it. Marj^ Anne confessed to him that 
she did not understand the matter ; her brothers were reticent 
even to discourtesy. That some mystery was at the bottom 
of it Mr. Hunter could not fail to detect, and was content to 
bury all allusion to the superstition. 

He stood with Miss Thornycroft on the edge of the plateau 
one bright morning — the brightest they had had. It was the 
first time he had been so far, for Mary Anne had never gone 
beyond the railings. Not the slightest fear had she ; for the 
matter of that, nobody else had in daylight ; but she knew 
that her father did not like to see her there. In small things, 
when they did not cross her own will, the young lady could be 
obedient. 

I can see how dangerous it would be here on a dark 
night,” observed Robert Hunter in answer to something she 
had been saying, as he drew a little back from the edge, over 
wliich he had been cautiously leaning to take his observations. 

Mary Anne ! I never in all my life saw a place so con- 
venient for smuggling as that Half-moon below. I daresay it 
it has seen plenty of it.” 

Before she could make any rejoinder Mr. Kyne came stroll- 
ing up to them in a brown study, and they shook hands. 
Robert Hunter had dined with him at the Red Court. 


THE HALF-MOON BEACH. 


289 


I was telling Miss Thornycroft that the place below looks 
as if it had been made for the convenience of smuggling,’’ 
began Eobe^t Hunter. Have you much trouble here 

‘^Ho; but I am in hopes of it/’ was the reply. And it so 
completely astonished Mr. Hunter, wiio had spoken in a care- 
less manner, without real meaning, as we all do sometimes, 
tliat he turned sharply round and looked at the supervisor. 

I thought tlie days of smuggling were over.” 

Not yet, here — so far as I believe,” replied Mr. Kyne. 

We liave information that smuggling to an extent is carried 
on somewhere on tliis coast, and this is the most likely spot for 
it that I can discover. I heard of this suspicion soon after I 
was appointed to Coastdown, and so kept my eyes open ; but 
never, in spite of my precautions, have I succeeded in drop- 
ping on the wretches. I don’t speak of paltry packets of to- 
bacco and sausage-skins of brandy, which the fishermen, 
boarding strange craft, contrive to stow about their ribs, but of 
more serious cargoes. I would almost stake my life that not a 
mile distant from this place there lies hidden a ton-load of lace, 
rich and costly as ever flourished at the Court of St. James.”* 

Eobert Hunter thought the stoiy sounded about as likely as 
that of the ghost. The incredulous, amused light in his e^’e 
caused Mary Anne to laugh. 

“ Where can it be hidden ? ” she asked of the supervisor. 

There’s no place.” 

‘‘ I wish I could tell you where. Miss Thornycroft.” 

Anything but inclined to laugh did he appear himself. The 
fact was, Mr. Kyne was growing more full}^ confirmed in his 
opinion day by day, and had come out this morning deter- 
mined to do something. Circumstances were occurring to 
baffle all his precautions, and he felt savage. His policy hith- 
erto had been secresy, henceforth he meant to speak of the 
matter openly, and see what that would do. It was very 
singular — noted hereafter — that Eobert Hunter and this young 
lady should have been the first who fell in his way after the 
resolution to speak was taken. But no doubt the remark with 
which Mr. Hunter greeted him surprised him into it. 

*Tlns was just before the late alteration in the Customs’ import laws 
when the duty on lace and other light articles was large: making the 
smuggling of them into England a clever and enormously profitable 
achieveineiit, when it could he accomplished with impunity. 


290 


THE TIED COURT FARM. 


But surely you do not think, Mr. Kyne, that boat-loads of 
lace are really run here exclaimed K-obert Hunter. 

“ I do think it. If not in this precise spot,” — pointing with 
his finger to the Half-moon beach underneath — “ somewhere 
close to it. There’s only one thing staggers me — if they run 
their cargoes there, where can they stow it away ? I have 
walked about there” — advancing to the edge cautiously and 
looking down — ‘Hrom the time the tide went off the narrow 
path, leading to it round the rocks, until it came in again, 
puzzling over the problem, and peering with every eye I had.” 

Peering ? ” 

Yes. We have heard of caves and other hiding-places 
being concealed in rocks,” added the supervisor, doggedly ; 

why not in these ? I cannot put it out of m3’ head that 
there’s something of the sort here ; it’s getting as bad to me 
as a haunting dream.” 

It would be charming to find it ! ” exclaimed Mary Anne. 
A cave in the rocks ! Ah, Mr. K3me, it is too good to be 
true. We shall never have so romantic a discover}^ at Coast- 
down.” 

If such a thing were there, I should think you would have 
no difficulty in discovering it,” said Mr. Hunter. 

I have found it difficult,” returned Mr. K3me, snappishly, 
as if certain remembrances connected with the non-finding did 
not soothe him. There’s onl}^ one thing keeps me from re- 
porting the suspicions at head quarters.” 

And that is ? ” 

The doubt that it may turn out nothing after all.” 

Oh, then, you are not so sure ; 3^11 have no sufficient 
grounds to go upon,” quickly rejoined Mr. Hunter, with a 
smile that nettled the other. 

Yes, I have grounds,” he returned, somewhat incautiously 
perhaps, in his haste to vindicate himself. We had informa- 
tion a short time back,” he continued after a pause, as he 
dropped his voice to a lowke3^, “that a boat-load of something 
— 7 /iy belief is, it’s lace — was waiting to come in. Eveiy 
night for a fortnight, in the dark age of the moon, did I haunt 
this naked plateau on the watch, one man with me, others 
being within call. A very agreeable task it was, l3'ing 
on its edge, with m3" cold face just extended beyond !” 

“ And what was the result ? ” eagerly asked Mr. Hunter, 
who was growing interested in the narrative. ^ 


THE HALF-MOON BEACH, 


291 


^^iL^othing was the result. I never saw the ghost of a 
smuggler or a boat approach the place. And the very first 
night I was off the watch, I have reason to believe the job 
was done.” 

Which night was that?” inquired Miss Thornycroft. 

This day week, when I was dining at the E-ed Court. I 
had told my men to be on the look-out; but I had certainly 
told them in a careless sort of way, for the moon was bright 
again, and who was to suspect that they would risk it on a 
light night? They are bold sinners.” 

The customs officer was so earnest, putting, as was evident, 
so much faith in his own suspicions, that Robert Hunter in- 
sensibly began to go over to his belief. Why should cargoes 
of lace, and other valuable articles, not be run ? he asked 
himself. They bore enough duty to tempt the risk, as they 
had borne it in the days gone by. 

How was it 3mur men were so negligent?” he inquired. 

There’s the devil of it ! ” cried the supervisor. I beg 
your pardon, jmung lady ; wrong words slip out inadvertently 
when one’s vexed. My careless orders made the men careless, 
and they sat boozing at the Mermaid. Young Mr. Thorny- 
croft, it seems, happened to go in, saw them sitting there with 
some of his farm-laborers, and, in a generous fit, ordered them 
to call for what drink they liked. Tliey had red eyes and 
shaky hands the next morning.” 

How stupid of my brother ! ” exclaimed Mary Anne. 

Was it Richard or Isaac ? ” 

I don’t know. But all your family are too liberal : their 
purse is longer than their discretion. It is not the first time, 
by manjq they have treated 1113^ fellows. I wish they would 
not do so.” 

There was a slight pause. Mr. Kyne resumed in a sort of 
halting tone, as if the words came from him in spite of his 
better judgment. 

“ The greatest obstacle I have to contend with in keeping 
the men to their duty on the plateau here, is the superstition 
connected with it. When a fellow is got on at night, the 
slightest movement — a night-bird flying overhead — will send 
him off again. Ah ! tliPAj don’t want pressing to stay drink- 
ing at the Mermaid or an\"where else. The fact is. Coast- 
down has not been kept to its duty for a long while. My 
predecessor was good-hearted and easy, and the men did as 
the^" liked.” 


292 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


How many men do you count here ? ’’ 

‘^Ouly three or four, and they can’t be available altogether; 
they must have some rest, turn on, turn off. There’s a 
longish strip of coast to pace, too ; the plateau’s but a fleabite 
of it.” 

^^And your theory is that the smugglers run their boats 
below here?” continued Robert Hunter, indicating the Half- 
moon beach. 

I think they do — that is, if they run them anywhere,” 
replied Mr. Kyne, who was in a state of miserable doubt, 
between his firiii convictions and the improbabilities they 
involved. You see, there is nowhere else that privateer 
boats can be run to. There’s no possibility of such a thing 
higher up, beyond that point to the right, and it would be 
nearly as impossible for them to land a cargo of contraband 
goods beyond the left point, in the face of all tlie villagers.” 

There was a silence. AH three were looking below at the 
scrap of beach over the sharp edges of the jutting rocks. Miss 
Thorny croft held safe hy Mr. Hunter. She broke it. 

But, as you observe, Mr. Kyne, where could they stow a 
cargo there, allowing that they landed one ? There is 
certainly no opening or place for concealment in those hard, 
bare rocks, or it would have been discovered long ago. 
Another thing — suppose for a moment that they do get a 
cargo stowed away somewhere in the rocks, how are they to 
get it out again ? There would be equal danger of discovery.” 

So there would,” replied Mr. Kyne. “ I have thought of 
all these things myself till my head is muddled.” 

Hid you ever read Cooper’s novels, Mr. Kjme ? ” resumed 
Miss Thornycroft. “ Some of them would give you a vast deal 
of insight into these sort of transactions.” 

No,” replied the officer, with an amused look. I prefer 
to get my insight from practice. I am pretty sharp-sighted,” 
he added with complacenc3^ 

Robert Hunter had been weighing possibilities in his mind, 
and woke up as from sudden thought, turning to the super- 
visor. 

“ I should like to go down there and have a look at these 
rocks. My profession has taken me much amidst such places ; 
perhaps my experience could assist 3mu.” 

Let us walk there now!” exclaimed the supervisor, seizing 
at the idea — ‘‘ if not taking you out of your way. Miss 
Thornycroft.” 


THE IIALF-MOON BEACH. 


293 


Oil, I should be delighted,” was the young lady’s reply. 

I . call it quite an adventure. Some fine moonlight night I 
shall come and watch here myself, Mr. Kyne.” 

^^They don’t do their work on a moonlight night. At 
least,” he hastened to correct himself, with a somewhat crest- 
fallen expression, ^^not usuall}^ But after what Kappened 
recently, I shall mistrust a light night as much as a dark 
one.” 

“Are you sure,” she inquired, standing yet within them on 
the plateau, “ that a cargo was really landed the night you 
speak of ? ” 

“ I am not sure ; but I have cause to suspect it.” 

“ It must be an adventurous life,” she remarked, “bearing 
its charms, no doubt.” 

“ They had better not get caught,” was the officer’s rejoin- 
der, delivered with professional gusto ; “ they would not find it 
so charming then.” 

“ I thought the days of smuggling were over,” observed 
Mr. Hunter: “except the more legitimate way of doing it 
through the very eyes and nose of the custom-house. Did 
you know an^T^thing personally of the great custom-house 
frauds, as they were called, when so many officers and 
merchants were implicated some years ago ? ” 

“I did. I held a subordinate post in the London office 
then, and was in the thick of the discoveries.” 

“ You were not one of the implicated? ” jestingly demand- 
ed Mr. Hunter. 

“ Why, no — or you would not see me here now. I was not 
sufficiently high in the service for it.” 

“ Or else you might have been ? ” 

“ That’s a home question,” laughed Mr. Kyne. “ I really 
cannot answer for what might have been. My betters were 
tempted to be.” 

He spoke without a cloud on his face ; a different man now, 
from the one who had betrayed his family’s past trouble to 
Justice Thornycroft. Not to this rising young engineer, at- 
tired in his fantastic coat, which the supervisor always believed 
must be the very height of ton and fashion in London ; not to 
this handsome, careless, light-hearted girl, would he suffer 
aught of that past to escape. He could joke with them of the 
custom-house frauds, which had driven so manj^ into exile, and 
one — at least, as he believed — to death. On the whole, it was 


294 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


somewhat singular that the topic should have been again 
started. Miss Thornycroft took up the thread with a laugh. 

There, Mr. Kyne ! You acknowledge that your custom- 
house gentlemen are not proof against temptation, and yet you 
boast of looking so sharply after these wretched fishermen ! 

If the game be carried on here as I suspect. Miss Thorny- 
croft, it is not wretched fishermen who have to do with it ; ex- 
cept, perhaps, as subordinates.” 

“ Let us go and explore the Half-moon beach below,” again 
said Eobert Hunter. Mr. Kyne turned to it at once : he had 
been waiting to do so. The engineer’s experience might be 
valuable. He had had somewhat to do with rocks and land. 

It was a short walk, as they made their way down to the 
village, ^d thence to the narrow path winding round the pro- 
jection of rock. The tide was out, so they shelved round it 
with dr}’' feet, and ascended to the Half-moon beach. They 
paced about from one end of the place to the other, looking 
and talking. Nothing was to be seen ; nothing ; no opening, 
or sign of opening. The engineer had an umbrella in his 
hand, and he struck the rocks repeatedly : in one part in par- 
ticular, it was just the middle of tlie Half-moon, he struck and 
struck, and returned to strike again. 

What do you find? ” inquired Mr. Kyne. 

Not much. Only it sounds hollow just here.” 

They looked again : they stooped down and looked ; they 
stood upon a loose stone and raised themselves to look ; they 
pushed and struck at the part with all their might and main. 
No, nothing came of it. 

“ Did you ever see a more convenient spot for working the 
game ? ” cried the supervisor. “ Look at those embedded 
stones down there, rising from the lower beach : the very 
things to moor a boat to.” 

Who do you suspect does this contraband business ? ” in- 
quired Eobert Hunter. 

My suspicions don’t fall particularly upon any one. There 
are no parties in the neighborhood whom one could suspect, 
except the boatmen, and if the trade is pushed in the exten- 
sive way I think, they are not the guilty men. A week ago 
(more or less) they ran, as I tell you, one cargo ; I know they 
did ; and may I be shot this moment, if they are not ready to- 
run another ! That’s a paying game, I hope.” 

Eeady to run another ! The pulses of Mr. Kyne’s hearers 


THE HALF-MOON BEACH. 295 

ran riot with excitement. This spice of adventure was in- 
tensely charming. 

How do you know the3^ are ? asked J^ohert Hunter. 

By two or three signs. One of tliem, which I have no 
objection to mention, is that a certain queer craft is fond of 
cruising about here. Whenever I catch siglit of her ugly 
sides, I know it bodes no good for lier majesty’s revenue. She 
carries plausible colors, the hussey, and has, I doubt not, a 
double bottom, false as her colors. I saw her stern, shooting 
off at daybreak this morning, and should like to have had the 
overhauling of her.” 

Can you not ? ” 

^^Ho. She is apparentl}^ on legitimate business.” 

I thought that her Majesty could search any vessel, legiti- 
mate or illegitimate.” 

Again Mr. K^me looked slightly crestfallen. boarded 
her with mj^ men the last time she was here, a^j^^i^n^hing came 
of it. She happened by ill-luck to be really empty, or we 
were not clever enough to unearth the fox.” 

The reminiscence was not agreeable to Mr. Kjme. The 
empty vessel had staggered him professionally ; the reception 
he met with insulted him personally. Until the search was 
over, the captain, a round, broad Dutchman, had been civil, 
affording every facility to the revenue officers ; but the instant 
the work was done, he ordered them out of the ship in his bad 
English, and promised a different reception if the}^ ever came 
on it again. That was not all. The mate, another Dutchman, 
was handling a loaded pistol the whole time on full cock, and 
staring at the superintendent in a very strange manner. Al- 
together the remembrance was unpleasant. 

The tide was coming up, and they had to quit the strip of 
beach while the road was open. Mr. Kyne wished them good 
morning and departed on his own way. Bobert Hunter turned 
towards the plateau again, which surprised Miss Thornj^croft. 

Just for a minute or two,” he urged. 

They ascended it, and stood on the brow as before, Bobert 
Hunter in deep thought. His face, now turned to the sea, now 
to the land, wore a business-like expression. 

We are now standing exactly above the middle of the 
rocks on the Half-moon beach below,” he remarked presently, 
‘‘just where they had a hollow sound.” 

“ Yes,” she replied. 


296 


THE RED COERT FA.RM. 


And the Ked Court, as you see, lies off in a straight line. 
It is a good thing your father lives there, Mary Anne.” 
u ? ?? 

Because if suspicious persons inhabited it, I should say 
that house might have something to do with the mystery. If 
Kyne’s conclusions are right — that smuggled goods are landed 
on the beach below, they must be stowed away in the rocks ; 
although the ingress is hidden from the uninitiated. Should 
this be really the case, depend upon it there is some passage, 
some communication, in these rocks to an egress inland.” 

But what has that to do with our house ? ” inquired Mary 
Anne, wonderingly. 

“ These old castles, lying contiguous to the coast, are sure to 
have subterranean passages underneath, leading to the sea. 
Many an escape has been made that way in time of war, and 
many an ill-fated prisoner has been so conducted to the waves, 
and put o^yffsight for ever. Were I your father, I would 
institute a seSrBti. He might come upon the hoarding-place 
of the smugglers.” 

But the smugglers cannot get to their caverns and pas- 
sages through our house ! ” 

Of course not. There must be some other opening. How 
I should like to drop upon the lads ! ” 

Mr. Hunter spoke with animation. Such a discovery pre- 
sented a tempting prospect, and he walked across the plateau 
as one who has got a new feather stuck in his cap. In pass- 
ing the Bound Tower, he 'turned aside to it, and stepped in 
through the opening. He found nothing there that could be 
converted into suspicion by the most lively imagination. The 
worn grass beneath the feet was all genuine ; the circular 
wall, crumbling away, had stood for ages. Satisfied, so far, 
tliey crossed the railings on their way home. 

Mr. Thornycroft was in the dining-room writing a note ; 
Bichard, who had apparentl}^ just stepped in to ask a question, 
held a gun ; Cyril la}'’ back in an easy-chair, reading. When 
Mary Anne and their gentleman guest burst in upon them 
with eager excitement, the one out-talking the other, it was 
rather startling. 

Such an adventure ! Papa, did you know we probably 
have smugglers on the coast here ? ” 

“ Have you ever explored underneath your house, sir, under 
the old ruins of the castle ? There may be a chain of subter- 
ranean passages and vaults conducting from here to th^ sea.” 


THE IIALF-MOON BEACH. 


297 


Not common smugglers, papa, the poor tobacco-and-brandy 
sailors, but people in an extensive way. Boat-loads of lace 
they land.^^ 

If it be as the man suspects, there may be often a rare 
booty there. There may be one at this very moment; I would 
lay any money there is,’^ added Bobert Hunter, improving 
upon the idea in his excitement. “ Mr. Bichard, will you bet 
a crown with me ? 

The woMs had been poured forth so rapidly b}’’ both, that it 
would seem their hearers were powerless to interrupt. Yet 
the effect they produced was great Cyril started upright, and 
let his book drop on his knees ; Mr. Thorn^^’croft pushed his 
glasses to the top of his brow, an angry paleness giving place 
to his healthy, rosy color ; while Bichard, more demonstrative, 
dashed the gun on the carpet and broke into an ugly oath. 
The justice was the first to find his tongue. 

What absurd treason are you talking now ? You are 
mad, Mary Anne.’^ 

It is not treason at all, sir,’’ replied Mr. Hunter, regard- 
ing Bichard with surprise. “ It is a pretty well ascertained 
fact that contraband goods are landed and housed in tlie rocks 
at the Half-moon. It will be loj^alty, instead of treason, if 
w^e can contrive to lay a trap and catch the traitors.” 

Bichard Thornycroft moved forward as if to strike the im- 
petuous speaker. It would seem that one of the fits of pas- 
sion he was liable to w^as coming on. Cyril, calm and cool, 
placed himself across his brother’s path. 

^^Be quiet. Bichard,” he said, in a tone that savored of 
authority ; stay you still. W'here did you pick up this 
cock-and-bull story ? ” he demanded with light mockery of 
Bobert Hunter. 

‘‘We had it from the supervisor. He has suspected ever 
since he came, he says, that this station was favored by smug- 
glers, and now he is sure of it. One cargo thej^ landed a few 
days ago, and there’s another dodging off the coast, waiting to 
come in. He. intends to drop upon that.” 

“ It is a made-up lie ! ” foamed Bichard. The fellow 
talks so to show his zeal. I’ll tell him so. Smuggled goods 
landed here ! ” 

“ Well, lie or no lie, you need not fly in a passion over it,” 
said Mar}^ Anne. “ It is not our affair.” 

“ Then, if it is not our affair, what business have you inter- 


298 THE RED COURT FARM. 

fering in it ? ” retorted Kichard. Interpose your authority, 
sir, and forbid her to concern herself with men’s work,” lie 
added, turning sharply to his fatlier. No woman would do 
it who retains any sense of shame.” 

“ Miss Thornycroft lias done nothing unbecoming a lady,” 
exclaimed Mr. Hunter, in a tone of w'onder. “You forget 
that you are speaking to your sister, Mr. Richard. What can 
yon mean ? ” 

“ Oh, he means nothing,” said Mary Anne, “ orily he lets 
his temper get the better of his tongue. One would think, 
Richard, you had something to do with the smugglers, by 
jmur taking it up in this waj^,” she pursued, in a spirit of ag- 
gravation. “And, indeed, it was partly your fault that they 
got their last cargo in.” 

“ Explain yourself,” said Cyril to his sister, pushing his arm 
before Richard’s mouth. 

“ It W' as a night when we had a dinner-party here,” she 
pursued. “ Mr. Kyne w^as here ; the only night he had been 
off the watch for a fortnight, he says. But he left orders 
wdth his men to look out, and Richard got treating them to 
drink at the Mermaid, and they never looked. So the coast 
w^as clear, and the smugglers got their goods in.” 

Cyril burst into a pleasant laugh. “ Ah, ha ! ” said he, 
“ new brooms sweep clean. Mr. Superintendent Kyne is a 
fresh hand down here, so he thinks he must trumpet forth his 
fame as a keen officer — that he may be all the more negligent 
by-and-bye, you know. None but a stranger, as you are, Mr. 
Hunter, could have given ear to it.” 

“ I have given botli ear and belief,” replied Robert Hunter, 
firmly ; “ and I have offered Mr. Kyne the benefit of my 
engineering experience to help him discover whether there is 
or is not a secret opening in the rocks.” 

“ You have ! ” exclaimed Justice Thornycroft. He glared 
on Robert Hunter as he asked the question. From quite the 
first until now he had been bending over his note, leaving the 
discussion to them. 

“ To be sure I have, sir. I have been with him now, on the 
Half-moon, sounding them ; but I had only an umbrella, and 
that was of little use. We are going to-morrow better pre- 
pared. It strikes me the mystery lies right in the middle. 
It sounds hollow there. I will do all I can to help him, that 
the fellows may be brought to punishment.” 


THE HALF-MOON BEACH. 


299 


^^Sir!” cried the old justice, in a voice of thunder, rising 
and sternly confronting Robert Hunter, I forbid it. Do you 
understand? I forbid it. Hone under my roof shall take 
act or part in this.” 

“But justice demands it,” replied Mr. Hunter, after a 
pause. “ It behoves all loyal subjects of her majesty to aid in 
discovering the offenders : especially you, sir, a sworn magis- 
trate.” 

“ It behoves me to protect the poor fishermen, who look to 
me for protection, who have looked to me for it for years; ay, 
and received it,” was the warm reply, “ better than it behoves 
you, sir, to presume to teach me my duty ! Richard, leave me 
to speak. I tell you, sir, I do not believe this concocted story. 
I am the chief of the place, sir, and I will not believe it. 
The coast-guard and the fishermen are at variance ; always 
have been ; and I will not allow the poor fellows to be 
traduced and put upon, treated as if they w’ere thieves and 
rogues. Heither I nor mine shall take part in it ; no, nor any 
man who is under my roof eating the bread of friendliness. 
I hope you hear me, sir.” 

Robert Hunter stood confounded. All his golden visions of 
discoveries, that should make his name famous and put feathers 
in his cap, were vanishing into air. But the ciiyous part was 
the justice’s behavior; that struck him as .being very strange, 
not to say unreasonable. 

“It is not the first time, sir, that the coast-guard have tried 
it on,” pursued Mr. Thornycroft. “ When the last superin- 
tendent was appointed, Dangerfield, he took something of the 
sort in his head, and came to me to assist him in an investi- 
gation. ^Investigate for yourself,’ I said to him. ^ I shall 
not aid you to tarnish the characters of the fishermen.’ It 
may be presumed that his investigation did not come to 
much,” was the ironical conclusion ; “ since I heard no more 
about the smugglers from him all the years he was stationed 
here.” 

“ And you think, sir, that Mr. Kyne is also mistaken ? ” 
cried Robert Hunter, veering round. 

“ What I think, and what I do not think, you may gather 
from my words,” was the haughty reply. “ I tell you that no 
man living under my roof shall encourage by so much as a 
word, let alone an act, anything of the sort. Mr. Kyne can 
pursue his own business without us.” 


300 


THE RED COURT FARM!. 


it were one of my own brothers who did so, I would 
shoot him ‘dead,” said Richard, with a meaning touch at his 
gun. “ So I warn him.” 

And commit murder ? ” echoed Robert Hunter, who did 
not admire tliis semi-threat of Ricluird’s. 

‘^It would not be murder, sir; it would be justifiable 
homicide,” interposed the justice, rather to Robert Hunter’s 
surprise. When I was a young man, a guest abused my 
father’s hospitality. My brother challenged him. They went 
out with their seconds, and my brother shot him. That was 
not murder.” 

“ But, papa, that must have been a different thing altogeth- 
er,” said Mary Anne, who had stood transfixed at the turn the 
conversation was taking. “ It ” 

^^To your room. Miss Thornycroft ! To your room, I say !” 
cried the passionate justice, pusliing her from him. “Would 
you beard my authority? Things are coming to a pretty 
pass.” 

It was a stormy ending to a stormy interview. Confused and 
terrified, Mary Anne Tliornycroft hastened upstairs and burst 
into tears in her chamber. Richard strode away witli his gun ; 
Cyril followed him ; and the justice bent over his writing, 
again quietly, as though nothing had happened. 

As for Robert Hunter he felt entirely amazed. Of course, 
putting it as the justice had put it, he felt bound in honor not 
to interfere further, and would casually tell Mr. Kyne so on 
the first opportunity, giving no reason why. Pondering over 
the matter as he strolled out of doors uncomfortably, he came 
to the conclusion that Mr. Thornycroft must be self-arrogant, 
both as a magistrate and a man : one of the old-world sort, 
who jog on from year’s end to year’s end, seeing no abuses, 
and utterly refusing to reform them when seen. 


MY LADY AT THE RED COURT. 


301 


CHAPTEE XXII. 

MY LADY AT THE RED COURT. 

At the end window of the corridor, looking towards the 
churcli and village, stood Mary Anne Thornycroft. Xot yet 
had she recovered the recent stormy interview, and a resentful 
feeling in regard to it was rife within lier. Tlie conduct of 
lier fatlier and eldest brother appeared to have been so devoid 
of all reason in itself, and so gratuitously insulting to Eobert 
Hunter, that Mary Anne, in the prejudice of her love for Aiw, 
was wishing she could pay them off. It is the province of 
violent and unjust opposition to turn aside its own aim, just as 
it is the province of exaggeration to defeat itself; and Miss 
Thornycroft, conning over and over again in her mind the 
events of the day, wilfully persuaded herself that Mr. Kyne 
was right, her father wrong, and tliat smuggling of lace, or 
anything else that was valuable, was carried on under (as may 
be said) the very face and front of their supine house. 

Cyril came up the stairs — his book in his hand — saw her 
standing there, and came to her side. The short winter’s daj’’ 
was already verging towards twilight, and the house seemed 
intensely still. 

Is it not a shame ? ’’ exclaimed Mary Anne, as Cyril put 
his arm abo\it her. 

“ Is what not a shame? That the brightness of the day is 
gone ? ” 

“ You know ! she passionately exclaimed. Where’s the 
use of attempting subterfuge with me, Cyril ? Cyril, on my 
word I thought for tf.e moment that papa and Eichard must 
have gone suddenly mad.” 

In Cyril Thoriiycroft’s soft brown e3^es, thrown out to the 
far distance, there was a strange look of apprehension, as if 
the}' saw an unwelcome thing approaching. Something was 
approaching in fact but not quite in sight 3^et. He had a 
mild, gentle face ; his temper was of the calmest, his voice 
sweet and low. And 3^et C,yril seemed to have a great care 
ever upon him ; — his mother, whom he so greatly resem- 
bled, used to have the same. He was the only one of her 
children who, as yet, had profited much by her counsel and 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


802 

% 

monition. In the last few years of her life her earnest daily 
efforts had been directed to draw her children to God, and on 
Cyril they had borne fruit. 

In the German schools, to which he had been sent, in the 
Oxford University life that succeeded, Cyril Thornycroft had 
walked unscathed amidst the surging sea of surrounding sins 
and perils. Whatever temptation might assail him, he seemed, 
in the language of one who watched his career, only to come 
out of them more fit for God. Self-denying, walking not to 
do his own will, remembering always that he had been bought 
with a price and had a Master to serve, Cyril Thornycrott s 
daily life was one of patient endurance of a great inward suf- 
fering, and of active ‘kindness. Where he could do good he 
did it ; when others were tempted to say a harsh word he said 
a kind one. He had been brought up to no profession; his 
inclination led him to go into the Church ; but some motive, of 
which he never spoke, seemed to hold him back. Meanwhile 
Mr. Thornycroft appeared quite content to let him stay on at 
the Red Court in idleness — idleness as the world called it. 
Save that he read a great deal, Cyril did no absolute work ; 
but many in Coastdown blessed him. In sickness of body, in 
suffering of mind, there by the bed-side might be found Cyril 
Thornycroft, reading from the Book of Life— -talking of good 
things in his low, earnest voice ; and sometimes — if we may 
dare to write it — praying. Dare ! For it is the fashion of the 
world to deride such things when spoken of — possibly to de- 
ride them also in reality. 

And now that is all that will be said. It was well to say it 
for the satisfaction of the readers, as will be found presently, 
even though but one of those readers may be walking in a 
similar earnest path, the world lyiug on one hand, heaven on 
the other. 

“ Courtesy is certainly due to Mr. Hunter, and I am sorry 
that my father and Richard lorgot it,’’ resumed Cyril. When 
does he leave ? ” 

On Saturday,” she answered, sullenly. 

Tlien — endeavor to let things go on peaceably until tnat 
time. Do not excite him by any helping word on your part to 
oppose home prejudices. Believe me, Mary Anne, my advice 
is good. Another such scene as there was to-day, and I should 
be afraid of the ending.” 

“ What ending ? ” 


MY LADY AT THE BED COURT. 


803 


That Richard might J:iirn him out of the house.” 

Miss Thorny croft tossed her head. Richard would be ca- 
pable of it.” 

‘^Let us have peace for the rest of his sojourn here, forget- 
ing this morning’s episode. And — Mary Anne — do not ask 
him to prolong bis visit beyond Saturday.” 

He looked with kindly earnestness into her e3"es for a mo- 
ment as if wishing to give impression to the concluding words, 
and then left her to digest them : which Miss Thorn 3T.roft was 
b3" no means inclined to do pleasantly. She was picking up 
the notion that she would be required to give way to her 
brothers on all occasions ; here was even C3^ril issuing his 
orders now ! Hot ask Robert Hunter to stay over Saturday ! 
— when her whole heart had been set upon his doing it ! 

Pla3dng with her necik-chain, tossing it hither and thither, 
she at length saw Robert Hunter come strolling home from 
the village, his air listless, his steps slow ; just like a man who 
is finding time heavy on his hands. 

And not one of them tdbe with him ! ” came her passion- 
ate thought. It is a shame. Bears ! Why ! who’s this ? ” 

The exclamation — cutting short the complimentary epithet 
on her brothers, though it could not apply with an3" sort of 
justice to C3U‘il, who had been prevented by his father from 
following Robert Hunter — related to a Jutpoint fl3’’ and pair. 
Driving in at the gates, it directly faced Mary Anne Thorny- 
croft j she bent her eyes to peer into it, and started with sur- 
prise. 

“ Good gracious ! What can bring her here ? ” 

For she recognised Ladj* Ellis ; with a maid beside her. 
And yet, in that pale, haggard, worn woman, who seemed 
scarcely able to sit upright, there was not much trace of the 
imperious face of her who had made for so brief a period the 
Red Court her home. Illness — long-continued illness, its ter- 
mination of necessity fatal — changes both the looks and the 
spirit. 

The chaise had passed Robert Hunter at right angles : had 
1113^ iad3^ recognized him ? 

But a moment must be given to C3"ril. On descending the 
stairs, he saw Richard striding out at the front door, and has- 
tened after him. 

Whe];e are 3mu going, Richard?” 

^‘Wiiere am I going?” retorted Richard. “ To Tomlett’s, 
if you must know. Something must be done.” 


304 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Cyril laid his calm hand on his brother's restless one, and 
led liim off towards the plateau. 

Do nothing, Richard. You are hasty and incautious. 
Thej" cannot make any discovery.” 

And that fellow talking of going to sound the rocks, with 
liis boasted engineering experience?” 

“ Let him go. If the square sounds as hollow as his head, 
what then? They can make nothing else of it. No dis- 
covery can be made from the outside; you know it ca/i not; 
and care must be taken that they don’t get in.” 

“ Perhaps you would not care if they did,” spoke Richard 
in his unjust passion. 

You know better,” said Cyril, sadly. “ However I may 
have wished that certain circumstances did not exist, I would 
so far act with you now as to ward oft’ discovery. I would 
give n\y life, Ricliard, to avert pain from you all, and disgrace 
from the Red Court’s good name. Believe me, nothing bad 
will come of this, if you are only cautious. But your temper 
is enough to ruin all — to set Hunter’s sus[)icions on you. You 
should have treated it derisively, jokingly, as I did.” 

Richard, never brooking interference, despising all advice, 
flung Cyril’s arm aside, and turned off svvearing, meeting 
Isaac, who was coming round by the plateau. 

“ Isaac, we are dro];)ped upon.” 

‘‘What?” 

“We are dropped upon, I say.” 

“ How ? Wlio has done it ? ” 

“ Tiiat cursed fellow Mary Anne brought here — Hunter. 
He and Kyne have been putting their heads together; and, 
by all that’s true, they have hit it hard. They had got up a 
suspicion of the rocks ; been sounding the square rock, aiid 
found it hollow. Kyne has scented the cargo that’s l^’ing oft’ 
now.” 

The corners of Isaac Thornycroft’s mouth fell considerably. 
“We must get that in,” he exclaimed. “It is double the 
usual value.” 

“ I wish Hunter and the gauger were both hanging from 
the cliffs together!” was Richard’s charitable conclusion, as 
he strode onwards. “ It was a bad day’s work for us when 
they moved Dangerfteld. I’m on my way now to consult 
with Tomlett; will you come?” 

Isaac turned with him. Bearing towards the plateau, but 


MY LADY" AT THE RED COURT. 


305 


leaving it to the right — a road to the village rarely taken by 
any but the Thorny croft family^ as indeed nobody else had a 
right to take it, the waste land belonging to Mr. Thornycroft 
— they went on to Tomlett’s, meeting Mr. Kyne en route, 
with whom Isaac, sunny-mannered ever, exchanged a few gay 
words. 

Cyril meanwhile strolled across the lawn as far as the rail- 
ings, and watched them a‘way. He was deep in thought ; his 
eyes were sadder than usual, his high, square brow was 
troubled. 

If this incident could but turn out a blessing ! ” he half 
murmured. Acted upon by the fear of discovery through 
Kyne’s suspicions, if my father would but make it a plea for 
bringing things to a close, while quiet opportunity remains to 
him ! But for Bichard he would have done so, as I believe, 
long ago.^^ 

Turning round at the sound of wheels, Cyril saw the fly drive 
in. Beaching it as it drew up to the door, he recognized his 
stepmother. Mary Anne came out, and they helped her to 
alight. Hyde, every atom of surprise he possessed showing 
itself in his countenance, flung wide the great door. She 
leaned on CyriPs arm, and walked slowly. Her cheeks were 
hollow, her black eyes were no longer fierce, but dim ; her 
gown sat about her thin form in folds. 

My dears, I thought your father would have had the car- 
riage waiting for me at Jutpoint.^^ 

“ My dears ! ’’ from the once cold and haughty Lady Ellis ! 
It was spoken in a meek, loving tone, too. Mary Anne 
glanced at Cyril. 

“I am sure my father knew nothing of your intended 
arrivaV^ spoke Cyril ; otherwise some of us would certainly 
have been at Jutpoint.^’ 

I wrote to tell him ; he ought to have had the letter this 
morning. I have been a little better lately, Cyril ; not really 
better, I know that, but more capable of exertion ; and I 
thought I should like to have a look at you all once again. 
I stayed two days in London for rest, and wrote yesterdajL^^ 

She passed the large drawing-rooms, and turned of her own 
accord into the small comfortable apartment that was formerly 
the school-room, and now the sitting-room of Mary Anne. 
Cyril drew an easy-chair to the fire, and she sat down in it, 
19 


306 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


letting her travelling wraps fall from her. Sinnett, who had 
come in not less amazed than Hyde, picked them up. 

You are surprised to see me, Sinnett.’^ 

Well — yes, I am, my lady,” returned Sinnett, who did not 
add that she was shocked also. I am sorry to see you look- 
ing so poorly.” 

I have come for a few days to say good-bye to you all. 
You can take my bonnet as well.” ' 

Sinnett went out with the things. It was found afterwards 
that the letter, which ought to have announced her arrival, 
was delayed by some error on the part of the local carrier. 
It was delivered in the evening. 

As she sat there facing the light, the ravages disease was 
making showed themselves all too plainly in her wasted 
countenance. In frame she was a very skeleton, her hands 
were painfully thin, her black silk gown hung iu folds on her 
shrunken bosom. Mary Anne put a warm foot-stool under 
her feet, and wrapped a shawl about her shoulders ; Cyril 
brought a glass of wine, which she drank. 

I have to take a great deal of it now, five or six glasses 
a day, and all kinds of strengthening nourishment,” she said. 

Thank you, Cyril. Sometimes I lie and think of those poor 
people whose case is similar to mine, and who cannot get it.” 

How strange the words sounded from her ! Thinking for 
others ! Miss Thornycroft, remembering her in the past, 
listened in a sort of amused incredulity, but a light as of some 
great gladness shone in the eyes of Cyril. 

As he left the room to search for his father, who had gone 
out, Hobert Hunter entered it. Seeing a stranger there, an 
apparent invalid, he was quitting it again hastily when Mary 
Anne arrested him. 

You need not go, Eobert ; it *is my step-mother, Lady 
Ellis. Mr. Hunter.” 

At the first moment not a trace could he find of the hand- 
some, haughty-faced woman who had beguiled him with her 
charms in the days gone by. Not a charm was left. She had 
left off using adjuncts, and her face was almost yellow; its 
roundness of contour had gone ; the cheeks were hollow and 
wrinkled, the jaws angular. Only by the eyes, as they flashed 
for a moment into his with a sort of disma^^ed light, did he 
recognize her. Bowing coldly, he would have retreated, but 
she, recovering herself instantly, held out her hand. 


MY LADY AT THE RED COURT. 


307 


wonder you. have forgotten me; I am greatly 
changed.’^ 

Mary Anne Thornycroft looked on with astonishment. Had 
they ever met before ? 

Yes/’ said Lady Ellis; ^‘but he was mostly called Mr. 
Lake then.” 

A flush dyed E-ohert Hunter’s brow. I threw off the 
name years ago, when I threw off other things,” he said. 

‘^Wliat other things did you throw off?” quickly asked 
Mary Anne.” 

Oh, many,” was the careless answer ; frivolity and idle- 
ness, amidst them.” 

Perhaps he remembered that his manner and words, in the 
view of that wasted face and form, were needlessly ungracious, 
for his tone changed ; he sat down, and said he was sorry to 
see her looking ill. 

I have been ill now for a long while ; I must have been ill 
when I knew you,” she said ; that is, the disease was within 
me, but I did not suspect it. Had I taken heed of the symp- 
toms, slight though they were, and for that cause entirely un- 
heeded, perhaps something might have been done for me ; I 
don’t know. As it is, I am slowly dying.” 
hope not,” he said in his humanity. 

You cannot hope it, Mr. Hunter. Look at me ! ” 

Very true. Had she been all the world to him — had his 
whole happiness depended on his keeping her in life, he could 
not have hoped it. With her wan face, and eyes glistening 
with that peculiar glaze that tells of coming death ; with her 
thin frame and deep, quick breath, that seemed to heave the 
body of her gown as though a furnace-bellows were underneath, 
there could be no thought of escape from the portals that were 
opening for her. As she sat before him leaning in the chair, 
the shawl thrown back from her chest, Eobert Hunter looked 
at her and knew it. 

There ensued a silence. He did not answer, and Mary 
Anne was much wondering at this suddenly-discovered past 
intimacy, never spoken of by either to her, and resenting it 
after the manner of women. The fire flickered its blaze aloft ; 
the twilight deepened ; but it was not yet so dark but that the 
plateau was distinct, and also the figure of the preventive man 
at the edge, pacing it. Lady Ellis suddenly broke the still- 
ness. 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


o no 
oOo 

Do the people believe in the ghost still, Marj Anne ? ’’ 

I suppose so. There has been no change that I know 
of.^’ 

I meant — has anything been discovered ? ” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft lifted her eyes. How do you 
mean, discovered ? What is there to discover ? ” 

^‘Hot anything, I dare say,” she said. But it used to 
strike me as very singular — this superstitious belief in these 
enlightened times — and a feeling was always on my mind tliat 
something would occur to explain it away. Have you heard 
of it ? ” she asked, directing her eyes to Robert Hunter. 

Some what. Tliere is a difficulty, I hear, in keeping the 
preventive men on the plateau after dusk. What it is they 
precisely fear, I do not know.” 

Neither did I ever know,” she observed, dreamily. The 
curious part of it to me always was, that Mr. Thornycroft and 
his sons appeared to fear it.” 

Before Miss Thornycroft, who sat in silence, the subject was 
not pursued. Lady Ellis started a more open one, and 
inquired after Mrs. Chester. 

She is living in Paris,” said Robert Hunter. “ At least — 
she has been living there ; but I am not sure that she is still. 
A few days ago I had a letter from her, in which she said she 
was about to change her residence to Brussels.” 

He did not add that the letter was one of Mrs. Chester’s 
usual ones — complaining grievously of hard times, and the 
impossibility of “ getting along.” Somehow she seemed not 
to be able to do that anywhere. She had two hundred a year, 
and was always plunging into schemes to increase her income. 
They would turn out well at first, according to her report, 
promising nothing less than a speedy fortune ; and then 
would come a downfall. In this recent letter, she had implor- 
ed of Robert Hunter to ^Mend” her fifty pounds to set her 
going in Brussels, to which capital she was on the wing, with 
an excellent opportunity of establishing a first-class school. 
He sent the money, never expecting to see it again. 

Are her children with her ? ” questioned Lady Ellis. 

OnW Eanny. The boys are at school in England. And 
Anna — you remember Anna ? ” 

should think I do, poor girl. The slave of the whole 
house.” 

Anna is here on a visit.” 


MY LADY AT THE LED COUET. 


309 


^^IIere,r^ 

I mean at Coastdown. She is staying with a Captain and 
Mrs. Copp, who are some slight relatives of hers.’^ 

I have thouglit of Anna as teacher in a school. Mrs. 
Chester said she should place her in one.’^ 

She is a teacher. This visit is only a temporary one^ pro- 
longed on account of Anna’s health. She was with Miss 
J upp.” 

With the last word, all the reminiscences, as connected with 
that lady’s name and the past, rose up in the mind of E/obert 
Hunter — of a certain Christmas-day, when Mary Jupp had 
brought some shame home to him : perhaps also to her of the 
faded face sitting opposite. It brought shame to him still ; 
but, seeing that faded face, he was vexed to have inadvertent- 
ly mentioned it. 

“ Mary Anne, I think I will go to my room. The fire must 
have burnt up now. Ho, don’t come with me ; I would be 
quiet for a little while.” 

As she got up from the chair, she staggered. Eobert Hun- 
ter, who was crossing the room to open the door for her 
stopped and offered his arm. He could do no less in common 
pity : but the time had been when he registered a mental vow 
that never again should the arm of that woman rest within 
his. 

Thank you : just to the foot of the stairs. I have but 
little strength left, and the journey to-day has temporarily 
taken away that. Are you getting on well in your profession, 
Mr. Hunter?” 

“ Oh, yes. My prospects are very fair.” 

Sinnett happened to be in the hall ; her mistress called to 
her, took her arm, and quitted that of Eobert Hunter. He 
returned to Mary Anne, who was rather sulky still. What 
with the scene in the afternoon, with the unexpected and not 
over-welcome appearance of her step-mother, and with this 
mysterious acquaintanceship, about which nothing had been 
said to her, the young lady was not in so amiable a mood as 
usual. 

When did you know Lady Ellis ? ” she abruptly began 
after an interval of silence. And where ? ” 

^^Some years ago; she was staying, for a few months with 
my half-sister, Mrs. Chester, at Guild.” 

At Guild ; yes, I know ; I saw her there when I went 


310 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


over with papa. But I was not aware that you were intimate 
there.” 

Robert Hunter had never spoken of that past time in any 
way to Mary Anne. It happened that Anna Chester h.ad not. 

“ I went over to Guild sometimes. I was living at Katter- 
ley, seven miles off.” 

‘‘ Was that in your wife’s time ? ” 

Yes.” 

It is strange you never told me you knew my stepmother.” 

It never occurred to me to tell you. Business matters 
have so entirely occupied my thoughts since, that those old 
days seem well-nigh blotted out of them.” 

“ Were she and your wife great friends?” 

‘^No. My wife did not like her.” 

Robert Hunter was standing at the window, looking out in 
the nearlj^ faded twilight. He could not fail to perceive by 
the tone of her voice that Mary Anne was feeling displeased 
at something. But her better nature was returning to lier, 
and she went and stood by him. He held out his arm, as he 
had done once or twice before when they were thus standing 
together : and she slipped her hand within it. The fire had 
burnt down to dulness, emitting scarcely any light : the pre- 
ventive man could no longer be seen on the plateau. 

How dark it is getting, Robert ! ” 

‘ ‘‘ Yes; but I think it will be a fine night. There’s a star 
or two twinkling out.” 

Very, very conscious was each, as they stood there. In 
these silent moments, with the semi-darkness around, love, if 
it exists, must make itself felt. Love witlun, love around, love 
everywhere ; the atmosphere teeming with it, the soul sick to 
trembling with its own bliss. It seemed to them that the 
beating of their own hearts was alone heard, and that too au- 
dibly. Thus they stood; how long it was hard to say. The 
room grew darker, the stars came out clearer. The softness of 
the hour was casting its spell on them botli ; never had love 
been so present and so powerful. In very desperation Mary 
Anne broke the silence, her tone sweet and low, her voice sunk 
to a half- whisper. 

Robert, how is it you have never spoken to me of your 
wife ? ” 

I did not know you would like it. And besides 

Besides what ? ” 


MY LADY AT THE RED COURT. 


31 ] 


I have not cared to speak of her since her death. A feel- 
ing has been upon me that I never should speak of her again, 
except perhaps to one person.’^ 

And that person ? 

second wife. Should I be fortunate enough ever to 
marry one.’^ 

, He turned involuntarily and looked at her. And then 
looked away again hastily. It might be dangerous just now. 
But that look, brief as it was, had shown him her glowing, 
downcast countenance. 

What was her name ? 

Clara. She was little more than a child — a gentle, loving 
child, unfit to encounter the blasts of the world. One, ruder 
than ordinary, struck her and carried her away.^’ 

Did you love her ver}" much ? ” 

He paused, hesitated, and then turned to her again. Am 
I to tell you, Mary Anne ? 

As 3mu like,^^ she whispered, the blushes deepening. “ Of 
course not, if it be painful to you.^^ 

“I did nut love her; taking the word in its truest extent. I 
thought I did, and it is only within a few months — ^}"es, I may 
as well tell you all — that I have learnt my mistake.’^ 

Mary Anne Thornycroft glanced at him in surprise. Only 
within a few months ! How is that ? 

Because I have learnt to love another. To love — do you 
understand, Mar}^ Anne? — to love. With my very heart and 
soul ; with my best and entire being. Such love cannot come 
twice to any man, and it teaches him much. It has taught 
me, amidst other knowledge, that I liked my wife as one likes 
a dear child, but not otherwise.’’ 

Mary Anne Thornycroft’s hand trembled as it lay upon his 
arm. In her bewilderment of feelings, in the tumultuous 
sensation born of this great love that was filling all her mind, 
she nearly lost command of her words, and spoke at random. 

“ But why should this be told only to your second wife ?” 

Because I should wish to show her that my true love is 
hers ; hers only in spite of my early marriage. The rest of 
the world it concerns not, and will never be spoken of to 
them.” 

You assume confidently that you will feel this love for your 
second wife ? ” 

I shall if I marry her. That is by no means sure. Un- 


312 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


less I marry her^ the one to whom my love is given, I shall 
never marry at all.^^ 

Ah, where Avas the use of keeping up this farce? It was 
like children playing at bo-peep with the handkerchief over 
the face. The other is there, but we pretend to know it not. 
With their hearts wildly beating in unison — with her hand 
shaking visibl}^ in its emotion — with the consciousness that 
concealment was no longer concealment but full and perfect 
knowledge, stood they. Mary Anne rejoined, her words more 
and more at random, her wits utterly gone a-woolgathering. 

And why should you not marry her ? 

I am not in a position to ask for her of her father.’^ 

It was all over in a moment. Save that he turned sudden- 
ly to look at her, and laid his hand on hers as if to still its 
trembling, Mary Anne Thornycroft doubted ever after if she 
had not made the first movement. Onl}^ a moment, and her 
head was lying on his breast, his clasped arms were holding 
her there, their pulses were tingling with rapture, their lips 
clinging together in a long and ardent kiss. 

Dare I speak to you, Mary Anne ? he asked, hoarsely. 

^^You know you ma}^’^ 

Oh, ni}^ love — my love ! It is you I would, if possible, 
make my wife. Hone other. But I may not ask for you of 
Mr. Thornycroft. He would not deem my position justified 
it.^^ 

I will wait for you, Bobert.’^ 

Only by bending his head could he catch the low words. 
His cheek lay on hers ; he strained her closer, if that were 
possible, to his beating heart. 

It may be for years ! 

Let it be years and years. I ask no better than to wait 
for you. 

The stars shone out brighter in the sky; the fire in the 
room went quite down ; and nothing more could be heard from 
those living in their new and pure dream, but snatches of the 
sweet refrain — 

‘‘ My love, my love ! 


A LAST INTERVIEW. 


313 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

A LAST INTERVIEW. 

The week went on to its close. Mary Anne Thornycroft; 
following out her own will and pleasure, despising her 
brother Cyrihs warning, asked Robert Hunter to prolong his 
visit. He yielded so far as to defer his departure to the 
Sunday evening. Originally it had been fixed for the Satur- 
day morning: business required his presence in London. 
Swayed by her, and by his own inclination — by his own love, 
he yielded to the tempting seduction of staying two further 
days. Alas, alas ! 

Peace had been established at the Red Court Farm ; or, 
rather, the unpleasantness had been allowed to die away. 
Nothing further had come of the outbreak ; it was not 
alluded to again in any way. Robert Hunter, meeting the 
superintendent, mentioned in a casual manner that he could 
not help him again in sounding the rocks, adding something 
about “ want of time.” It is probable that the surprise caused 
by the very unexpected arrival of Mr. Thornycroft’s wife 
tended more than aught else to smooth matters. A stranger 
in our household keeps down angry tempers. Isaac and Cyril 
were courteous as ever ; the justice w’as courteous also, though 
a little stift’ : Richard sternly civil. Robert Hunter responded 
cordialljq as if willing to do away with the impression left by 
his interference, and took things as he found them. 

Not a word was said of the newl^'-avowed love. Any sort 
of concealment or dishonor was entirely against the nature of 
Mary Anne Thornycroft; but love was all-powerful. That 
Robert Hunter was not in a condition to propose for her yet, 
he knew; but if this project of going abroad were carried out, 
he thought he might speak before starting. And so they 
mutually decided to wait — at least, for a few weeks, or until 
that should be decided. But, though Mr. Thorn3?'croft had 
not a suspicion of any attachment, the brothers were sharper 
sighted. They saw it clearl^q and showed disapproval in ac- 
cordance with their several dispositions. Richard resented it ; 
Isaac told his sister she might do much better ; Cyril said a 
word to her of concealment never bringing any good. It 


814 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


was rather singular that a dislike of Robert Hunter should 
exist in the breast of all three. Hot one, save Richard, ac- 
knowledged it even to himself; not one could say whence or 
wherefore it arose, except perhaps that they had not taken 
cordially to him at first. And of course the outbreak did not 
tend to improve the feeling. 

The arrival of Lady Ellis at the Red Court made no differ- 
ence whatever to the routine of its dail}^ life, since she was not 
well enough to come down and mix in it. The artificial ex- 
citement imparted by the journe^^ was telling upon her now, 
and her available strength seemed to have gone. Not tracing 
this fact — the increased weakness — to its true source, she laid 
the blame on the atmosphere of Coastdown. It never had 
agreed with her, she said ; she supposed it never would ; and 
she already began to speak of getting back to Cheltenham. 
Not rising until nearly mid-day, she went afterwards into the 
dressing-room, or boudoir, adjoining her chamber — we saw her 
in it once in the old da3"S — and there sat or la}^ for the rest of 
the da^^, watching the mysterious plateau and the sea beyond 
it, or reading between whiles. They went up and sat with 
her by turns — Mr. Thornycroft, Cju’il, and Mar^^ Anne ; 
Isaac rarely, Richard never, except for a brief moment of civil 
inquiry. None of them remained with her long. It wearied 
her to converse, and she thought she was best with her maid, 
who was in part companion. Robert Hunter she neither saw 
nor asked after. And so the week came to an end. 

Sunday" — and the day of Mr. Hunter’s departure. They 
attended church at St. Peter’s in the morning, all except Mr. 
Tliornycroft and Richard. The justice remained with his 
wife, and Richard was lax at the best of times in attendance 
on public worship. Mr. Richard spent the morning in a 
desultory" manner at home, a short pipe in his mouth, and 
lounging about the stables with H^^de. 

What Richard did with himself in the afternoon nobody 
knew ; it was not usual to inquire into his movements ; but 
the rest went over to Jutpoint to attend the church of St. 
Andrew’s, where there was a famous afternoon preacher, 
whom they liked to hear. Anna Chester was with them. 
Captain Copp, confined to the house b}^ a temporary indispo- 
sition, was indoors that day, and his wife remained in atten- 
dance on him ; so that Anna appeared at church in the morn- 
ing alone. Tlie Red Court people took her home and kept 


A LAST INTEUVIEW. 


315 


her to luncheon ; and she accompanied them afterwards to 
Jutpoint. 

The omnibus conveyed them, and was to bring them home 
again. Kever, when he could avoid it, did Mr. Thornycroft 
take out his own liorses on Sunday : he chose that they and 
his servants should, so far, have rest. They had a large circle 
of acquaintances at Jutpoint, and on coming out of church the 
justice and Isaac laid hands on two, and conveyed them back 
to dinner. The strangers liked these impromptu invitations — 
possibly laid themselves out to get them, and the omnibus had 
a merry freight back to Coastdown. 

“ If they are going to have one of their dinner-gatherings 
to-night, you must come home and sit down to it with me, 
Anna,’^ spoke Miss Thornycroft, as they quitted the omnibus 
at the Mermaid. 

Anna was nothing loth. She had sat in the omnibus by 
Isaac’s side, her hand in his, under cover of the closely-packed 
company and the approaching darkness, happy for the time. 
Hastil}^ answering that she would be glad to come, but must 
run on first pf all to the heath and tell Mrs. Copp, she sped 
away fast. Isaac, having waited until the others sliould dis- 
perse before he followed, overtook her just as she was entering. 

Captain Copp, up now, sat by the fire, groaning, and drink- 
ing some strong tea. The captain was occasionally afflicted 
with an intense sick-headache, never a worse than that he had 
to-day. He always laid the blame on the weather; it was the 
lieat, or it was the cold, or it was the frost, or the rain. Mrs. 
Copp agreed with him, but Sarah in the kitchen thought the 
cause lay in rum-and-water. The groans were suspended when 
they went in, and Mrs. Copp, dutifully waiting on him, put 
down the cup and saucer. 

Aunt, may I dine at the Eed Court ? ’’ 

Mrs. Copp made no answer. Whenever she saw Isaac and 
Anna together, she was taken with a fi.t of inward shivering. 
Captain Copp spoke up : his opinion was that Anna had better 
not. Isaac laughed. 

“ She must,” he said ; I am come to run away with her. 
Otherwise Maiy Anne will not sit down to the table with us.” 

Is it a party ? ” cried the captain. 

Just two or three. My father has brought them over 
from Jutpoint; and I think Kyne is coming in. I was in 
hopes jmu could have come, captain.” 


316 


THE rr.T) COUllT FA EM. 


Several dismal groans from Captain Gopp. He said it was 
the pain in his head ; in reality they sprung from pain at liis 
heart. One of those glorious dinners at the Red Court, and he 
unable to be at it ! 

“ Are you ready, Anna ? whispered Isaac. 

Slie ran upstairs to get something she wanted in the shape 
of dress, and was down again in a minute, wishing them good 
evening. Captain Copp, who did not altogether approve of tlie 
proceeding, called out that he should send Sarah for her at 
eight o’clock. 

Taking her arm within his, Isaac walked on in silence. At 
the close of the heath, instead of continuing his way down by 
the side of the churchyard, he turned into it by the small side 
gate. 

Just a minute, Anna,” he said, sitting down on the narrow 
bench. “ I want to say a word to you.” 

But before he began to say the word he enclosed her face in 
his loving arms, and took the kisses from it he had been long- 
ing for all the way from Jutpoint. 

“ What I want to say is this, Anna, that I do not think I 
can let the present state of things go on.” 
a^^o!” 

It is so unsatisfactory. My wife, and not my wife. I 
living at the Red Court, you secluded at Captain Copp’s. 
Meeting once in a way in a formal manner, shaking hands and 
parting again, nothing more. Wliy, I have only twice I think 
had you for a moment to myself since we parted, now and that 
evening at the Red Court. And what was that ? — what is 
this f I can’t stand it, Anna.” 

But what would you do ? ” 

I don’t know,” answered Isaac, looking straight forward at 
the gravestones, as if they could tell him what. I would 
brave my father’s anger in a minute if it were not for — for — 
if I were sure nothing would come of it. But it might.” 

In what way ? ” 

I may tell you some time ; not now. If Captain Copp 
would but be reasonable, so that I might entrust him with the 
secret, and ” 

He would go straight off with it to Mr. Thornycroft, 
Isaac.” 

^‘Precisely,” said Isaac, answering her interruption; and 
the time has hardly arrived for that. Besides, the informa- 
tion must come from myself. Ho you think ” 


A LAST INTERVIEW. 


317 


Hush, Isaac ! 

The softly-breathed warning silenced him. On the other 
side the hedge was a sound of footsteps — slow steps passing 
towards the heath. Isaac held her to him in perfect silence 
until thej^ were lost in the distance. 

Let us go, Isaac.’’ ^ 

It certainly would not be expedient to be seen there, and 
Isaac rose snatching as he did so his farewell kisses from her 
lips. Passing down the side path of the churchyard, they 
went out at its front entrance, and popped upon Mr. Kjme. 

He was evidently coming from the heath. It might have 
been his footsteps they had heard going towards it. Mr. 
Kyne looked full at them, and Anna colored in the night’s dark- 
ness to the very roots of her hair. To be caught at that hour 
stealing out of the churchyard with Isaac Thorny croft ! 

Is it you, Mr. Supervisor ? ” cried Isaac, gaily. A fine 
evening ! Take car% Miss Chester : you had better take my 
arm.” 

It’s very fine,” answered the supervisor ; the weather 
seems to have cleared up. I’ve been taking a stroll before my 
tea. We shall have a frost to-night, Miss Chester.” 

Safe to,” rejoined Isaac, looking up at the clear sky. 

How is my lady ? ” asked Mr. Kyne ; I heard she had 
come.” 

She has only come to go again. Coastdown never seems to 
suit her. She is very unwell indeed, and keeps her room.” 

The churchyard past, Mr. Kyne, without any warning 
whatever, turned off on the cross path towards his home, say- 
ing good-night. Isaac looked after him in a.sort of surprise. 

Then Kichard has left it to me,” he said, half aloud. 

Isaac ! Isaac ! what will Mr. Kyne think of me ? ” mur- 
mured Anna. 

Isaac laughed. ^^The most he can think is that we are 
sweethearts,” he answered in his light manner. 

Oh, Isaac, have you considered ? If ^candal should 
arise ! ” 

My darling, I have told you wh}^’ that cannot be. At the 
first breath of it I should avow the truth. Scandal ! how is it 
possible, when we are living here but as common acquain- 
tances ? ” 

At the gate of the Ked Court he let her enter alone, and 
ran back in search of Mr. Kyne. That functionary lodged, at 


318 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


a cottage just beyond the village, and Isaac found him poking 
up his small fire to make the little tin kettle boil, preparatory 
to making his tea. 

“ I have come to carry you off to dinner,” said Isaac. We 
have^ot. a friend or two dropped in from Jutpoint, and the 
parson’s coming. There’s a brave codfish and turkey.” 

Weak tea and bread-^and-butter at home in his poor small 
room ; and the handsome dinner table, the light, the warmth, 
the social friends at Justice Thorny croft’s. It was a wide 
contrast, making Mr. Kjme’s mouth water. He had dined at 
one o’clock off a mutton chop, and was hungry again. Codfish 
and turkey ! 

‘‘I’ll come with pleasure, Mr. Isaac. I must just say a 
word to Puffer first, if there’s time.” 

“ All right ; I’ll go with you,” said Isaac. 

Mr. Puffer, the coastguard-man for the night, was on the 
plateau, speculating upon how long it would be before daylight 
was quite gone, for a streak or two of yellow lingered yet in 
the west, when he was surprised by the sight of his superior, 
and began to pace the edge zealously, his eyes critically peer- 
ing out to^a. The supervisor approached alone. 

“ Aii}^ news, Puffer ? ” 

“Hone, sir,” answered Mr. Puffer, saluting his master. 
“All’s quiet.” 

“Very good. Keep a sharp look-out. I shall be up here 
again at seven or eight o’clock.” 

He had taken to say this to his men of late, ' by way of 
keeping them to their duty ; he had also taken to pop upon 
them at all kinds- of unpromised times : and, between the cold 
and the superstition, his men wished him at Hanover. 

The party sat down to dinner at six. Pichard came in with 
Mr. Hopley, from Dartfield, who was wont to come over to 
buy oats ; the parson of the parish, Mr. Southall, was there ; 
the gentlemen from* J utpoint, and Mr. Kyne. A jolly parson, 
Mr. Southall, w^ho enjoj^ed the good cheer of the Ped Court 
Farm on Sunday just as much as he did on week days, and 
made no scruple over it. 

The only two in strict evening dress were Pobert Hunter 
and Cyril Thornycroft ; but they wore black neckties. The 
rest were dressed well, as befitted the day, even Pichard, but 
they did not wear dress coats. Anna was in a gleaming blue 
silk. It had been bought for her by Isaac, as had a great 


A LAST INTERVIEW. 


319 


mcany other things during their brief period of married life ; 
and poor Mrs. Copp had to invent no end of stories to the cap- 
tain on their return to Coastdown, saying they were presents 
from her sick sister. Altogether there were twelve at table. 

The housekeeping at the Eed Court proved itself just as 
well prepared for these impromptu guests as it ever had been, 
save in the one memorable instance marked by the interfer- 
ence of Lady Ellis. After-circumstances caused the items of 
the bill of fare to be discussed out of doors, and, indeed, every 
other detail, great and small, of the eventful night. Mock- 
turtle soup, a fine codfish, a round of beef boiled, a large roast 
turkey and tongue, side dishes, a plum pudding, sweets and 
macaroni. All these were cooked and served in the best man- 
ner, with various vegetables, rich and plentiful sauces, strong 
ale, and the best of wines. Mr. Kyne thought of his solitary 
,tea at home, and licked his lips. 

On the withdrawal of the cloth, for Justice Thornycroft 
preserved that old-fashioned custom, and Mr. Southall had 
said grace, the young ladies retired. The gentlemen closed 
round the table to enjoy their wine. A merry party. By 
and by, spirits, cigars, and pipes were introduced — the usual 
practice on these occasions at the Bed Court. The only one 
who did not touch them was Cyril Thornycroft. 

It had been Mr. Kyne’s intention to retire at eight o’clock 
pre — cisely (he emphasised the word to himself), and go on 
the watch ; or, at any rate, see that his subordinate was there. 
But the best of officers are but mortal; Mr. Kyne felt very 
jolly where he was ; and, as common good sense whispered 
him, the smuggling lads were safe not to attempt any bother 
on a Sunday night ; they would be jollifying for themselves. 
So the officer sat on, paying his respects to the brandy-and- 
water, and getting rather dizzy about the eyes. 

Another who stayed longer than he ought; at least, longer 
than he had intended; was Bobert Hunter. Seduced into 
taking a cigar — and never were such cigars smoked as Justice 
Thornycroft’s — he sat on, and let the time slip by unheeded. 
On ordinary evenings the omnibus left Coastdown at half-past 
nine o’clock to convey passengers to the last train, that pass- 
ed through Jutpoint at midnight. On Sundaj^ nights the 
omnibus left at half-past eight, some dim notion swaying the 
minds of the authorities that the earlier hour implied a sort of 
respect to the day. The convenience of the passengers went 


S20 


THE KED COURT EARM. 


for nothing ; they had to wait at Jutpoint where and how they 
could. It had been Robert Hunter’s intention to go by this 
omnibus, and it was only by seeing Isaac Thornycroft look at 
his watch that he remembered time was flying. He pulled 

out his own. w n -i 

« By Jove, I’ve missed the omnibus,” he whispered to Oyril, 

who sat next him. It is half-past eight now.” 

“ What shall you do ? ” . 

Walk it. I must be in London for to-morrow morning. 

Rising as he spoke, he quietly said farewell to Mr. Thorny- 
croft, Richard, Isaac, and Mr. Kyne, and stole from the room, 
not to disturb the other guests, who were seated round the fire 
now in a cloud of tobacco smoke. Cyril went out with him. 
Miss Thornycroft and Anna were in the drawing-room drink- 
ing coffee. A cup was passed to Robert Hunter. ^ 

‘WYhat a sad thing— to have to wdlk to Jutpoint! 
exclaimed Mary Anne. 

He laughed at the words. I shall enjoy it far more than 
I should the omnibus.” 

Ah, I think you must have stayed on purpose, then. But 
what of the portmanteau ? ” 

It can come by train to-morrow, if one of your servants 
will take it to the Mermaid,” was his answer. “ My address 
is on it.” 

As he was speaking. Lady Ellis’s maid came into the room 
and delivered him a small bit of twisted paper. Holding it 
to the light, he read the faintly-pencilled words. 

^^I hear you are leaving. Will you come up for a minute, 
that I may wish you well ? ” 

What is it ? ” asked Mary Anne. 

Lady Ellis wishes to say farewell to me ” he answered. 

I will go to her now.” 

The maid led the way, and showed him up to the small 
sitting-room. Lady Ellis was leaning hack in her easy-chair, 
but she sat upright when he entered. Even more than before 
was he struck with the white, hollow, skeleton look of the 
face, on which death had so unmistakably set his seal j but 
the disorder had arrived at that stage now when each day 
made a perceptible change. The black eyes, once glistening 
so fiercely with their vain passions, lighted up with a faint 
pleasure. 

I am glad you came up : so glad 1 I thought you did not 
intend to see me at all.” 


A LAST INTERVIEW. 


821 


He answered that he did not know she was well enough to 
be seen, speaking cordially. With that dying face and form 
before him, three-parts of his cherished enmity to the woman 
died out. Xot his dislike of her. 

I would bid you farewell, Mr. Hunter. I would wish you 
— an’ you will permit me — God-speed. The next time we 
meet, both of us will have entered on a different world from 
this.” 

Thank you,” he said, in allusion to the wish, ^^but are you 
sure nothing can be done for your recovery ? ” 

“Hothing whatever. And the end cannot be very far off 
now. Mr. Thornycroft is going back with me to Cheltenham, 
and I am glad of it. I should like him to see the last of me.” 

She was looking at the fire as she spoke. He, standing at 
the opposite side of the mantelpiece, looked at her. What a 
change from the vain, worldly, selfish woman of the past! 
Baising her eyes suddenly, she caught his gaze, perhaps 
divined somewhat of his thoughts. 

“You cannot think me to be the same, can you? ” 

“ Scarcely.” He glanced at the timepiece. At best, the 
interview was not pleasant to him, neither did he care to pro- 
long it. 

“ You fear to lose the omnibus?” 

“ I have lost it. Your clock is slow. I am now about to 
start on foot to Jutpoint.” 

“ Could they not send you in the dogcart ? ” 

“ Thank you ; I prefer to walk. The night is fine, and the 
road good. And I suppose I must be going.” 

She stood up as he moved, and held out her hand, her silk 
gown falling in folds from her shrunken form. He shook 
hands. 

“ God bless you ; God prosper you here and hereafter ! ” 

• she said with some emotion. 

He hardly knew what to answer. To express a wish for 
her continued life ‘was so palpable a fallacy, with those signs 
of decay before him : so he murmured a word of thanks, and 
gave the thin hand a friendly pressure as he released it. 

But she did not release his. “ It was not quite all I wished 
to say,” she whispered, looking up to him with her sad eyes, 
in which stood a world of repentance. “ I want to ask your 
forgiveness.” 

“ My forgiveness ? ” 

20 


322 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


For the past. For your lost wife. But for me she might 
not have died. My long illness has brought reflection home to 
me, and — and repentance : as I suppose hopeless illness does 
to most people : showing me things in their true light ; showing 
me the awful mistakes and sins the best and the worst of us 
alike commit. Say that you forgive me.” 

Lady Ellis,” he said, his countenance assuming a solemn 
aspect as he looked straight at her, “ I have far more need of 
forgiveness myself than any other can have : I saw that at 
the time ; I see it always. My wife was mine ; it was my 
duty to cherish her, and I failed ; no one else owed obligation 
to her. The chief blame lay witli me.” 

Say you forgive me ! I know she has, looking down from 
heaven.” 

‘‘ I do indeed. I forgive you with my whole heart, and I 
pray that we may, as you say, meet hereafter — all our mis- 
takes and sins blotted out.” 

I pray it always. Cyril knows I do. He was the first to 
lead me — ah, so kindly and imperceptibly ! — to the remem- 
Ifl’ance that our sins needed blotting out. It was during a six 
weeks’ visit he paid me with his sister. Few in this world 
are so good and pure and loving as Cyril Thorn3"croft. Fare 
you well, Bobert Hunter ! fare j^ou well for ever.” 

‘^For ever on earth,” he added. Another pressure of the 
poor weak hand, a warm, earnest look, a faint thought of the 
Heaven that might be attained to 3^et, and Bobert Hunter 
turned away, and woke up to the world again. 

His cold coffee stood in the drawing-room when he got 
back. He sat a short while with the two young ladies, very 
quiet and absorbed. Cyril was not there. Mary Anne in- 
quired what was the matter with him. 

That ppor woman upstairs,” he briefl}^ answered; ‘^she 
seems so near to death, but I think she is prepared for it.” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft simply looked at him in reply ; 
the manner and look were alike strange. Bobert Hunter sip- 
ped the cold coffee by spoonfuls, evidentlj^ unconscious what it 
was he was doing. 

“ But I must be going ! ” he suddenly cried, starting up. 
^^It would not do to miss the train as I have tlie omnibus. 
Good-bye, Anna; you will be coming back- to Miss Jupps’s, I 
suppose, when school begins ? ” 

The vivid blush went tor nothing. She, Mrs. Isaac Thorny- 


^ A LAST INTERVIEW. 


823 


croft, a school-teacher again ! Good-bye, Robert/’ she softly 
said. I wish you safe to Jutpoint, but I should not likf3 
your walk. Give my love to the Miss Jupps if you see them, 
and to Mrs. Macpherson.” 

Mary Anne went out with him to the door. As they crossed 
the hall, sounds of talking came from the dining-room, and 
there was a sudden burst of laughter. Evidently the party 
were enjoying themselves. He took his remarkable coat from 
a peg and flung it over his arm. 

You must say good-bye to Cyril for me, Mary Anne.” 

I will. Rut perhaps you will see him outside. Why don’t 
you put your coat on ? ” 

^^Not yet ; I am hot. By-and-by, when the air shall strike 
cool to me.” 

They stood just outside the door, in the shade of the walls, 
and he wound his arms round her for a last embrace. A last? 
^^God bless you, Mary Anne!” he whispered; ^Hhe time will 
come, I trust, when we need not part.” 

She stood looking after him, the outline of his retreating 
form being very distinct in the bright night. The stars were 
clear and the air was frost3^ Mary Anne Thornycroft watched 
him pass through the gate, and then saw that instead of going 
straight on, he turned short off to the waste land skirting the 
side of the plateau. 

She wondered. It was the farthest way to the village, and 
moreover the private way of Mr. Thornycroft. Another mo- 
ment and she saw him running up the plateau, having crossed 
the railings. 

Wh}^, what in the world ! — he must be dreaming,” she 
mentally concluded. Perhaps he wants to take a farewell 
view of the sea. He would see enough of it between here and 
Jutpoint.” 

However, Miss Thornycroft found it cold standing there, 
and went indoors, meeting Sinnett in the hall. 

Sinnett, Mr. Hunter’s portmanteau must go by the early 
omnibus. See that it is sent to the Mermaid in time.” 

“Very well, miss,” replied Sinnett. And it maybe here 
mentioned that she obeyed the order by sending it that night. 

Very shortly after Robert Hunter had left the dining-room, 
Richard and Isaac Thornycroft also withdrew from it, one by 
onej and unperceived. That is, the guests and the justice 
were too agreeably engaged with their pipes and drink, their 


324 


THE RED COURT FARMf 
f 

talk and laughter, to pay heed to it. One of the gentlemen 
from Jutpoint — a magistrate — was relating a story that con- 
vulsed the parson with laughter and sent the rest almost into 
fits. Altogether they were uncommonly jolly, and the lapse 
of one or two of the party counted for nothing. Mr. Kyne 
had nearely ceased to care whether his subordinate was on the 
watch, or off it. 

As it happened, he was on it. With the promised visit of 
his superior before his eyes, Mr. Puffer had not dared to leave 
his post. He stood close to the bleak edge of the cold plateau, 
wishing himself anywhere else, and bemoaning the hard fate 
that had made him a coast-guardsman. Unpleasant thoughts 
of ghosts, and such like visitants, intruded into his thoughts 
now and then : he entirely disbelieved Mr. Kyne’s theory that 
there were smugglers ; and the only cheering ray in his 
solitude, was the sight of the cheery lights in the Ped Court 
Farm. Tomlett, the fishing-boat master, who had recovered 
his accident, suddenly hailed him. 

Cold work, my man,^^ said he, sauntering up the plateau. 

It just is that ! ” was Mr. Puffer’s surly answer. 

^^But it’s a bright night: never saw a brighter when there 
was no moon : so you run no danger of making a false step in 
the dark and pitching over. There’s consolation in that.”. 

Ugh ! ” grunted the shivering officer, as if the fact afford- 
ed little consolation to him. 

“ What on earth’s the use of your airing yourself here ? ” 
went on Tomlett. ^^You coastguard fellows have got the 
biggest swallows ! As if any smugglers w^ould attempt the 
coast to-night ! My belief is — and I am pretty well used to 
the place, and have got eyes on all sides of me — that this 
suspicion of Master Kyne’s is all moonshine and empty 
herring-barrels. I could nearly take my oath of it.” 

So could I,” said the man. 

Let us go on to the Mermaid, and have a glass,” continued 
Mr. Tomlett, persuasively. ^^I’ll stand it. Johnson and 
Simms, and a lot more, are there.” 

I wish I dare,” cried the aggravated Puffer. ^^But Kyne 
will be up presently.” 

Ko he won’t. He is round old Thornycroft’s fire, in a 
cloud of smoke and drink. There’s a dinner-party at the Bed 
Court, and Kyne and the rest are half-seas over.” 

“ Are you sure of this ? ” 


A LAST INTERVIEW. 


325 


swear it if you wish me; I have just come from there. 
I went down to try and get speech of the justice about that 
boat loss: it comes on at Jutpoiiit to-morrow, and he is to be 
on the bench. But it was no go: they are all fixed in that 
dining-room ; and will be there till twelve o’clock to-night, and 
then they’ll reel off to bed with their boots on.” 

Tomlett was not in the habit of deceiving the men ; he 
showed himself their friend on all occasions ; and Mr. Puffer 
yielded to the seduction. Seeing him comfortably settled at 
the Mermaid, with what he liked best steaming before him, 
and some good fellows around, Tomlett withdrew, leaving him 
to enjoy himself. 

From the Mermaid, Tomlett steered his course to the Bed 
Court Farm, tearing over the intervening ground as if he had 
been flying from t mad bull. He took the liberty of crossing 
the lawn before the front windows (the shortest way), and 
went round by the unused path at the far end of the house, 
which led to the stables and to the young men’s apartments. 
Carefully pushing open the small door in the dead wall, he 
encountered Richard Thornycroft. 

^^It is all right, sir,” he panted, out of breath with run- 
ning: I have got the fellow in. We must lose no time.” 

Very well,” whispered Richard. Find Hyde, and come 
down.” 

I suppose he^s safe, sir ? ” said Mr. Tomlett, jerking his 
head in the supposed direction of the dining-room. 

“ Couldn’t be safer,” responded Richard. “ He had enough 
wine before he began at the brandy.” 

Isaac Thornycroft came up, a lighted lantern under his 
coat. Scarcely could either of the brothers be recognized for 
those who had so recently quitted the dining-room ; they wore 
small caps ; gaiters were buttoned over their legs ; their dinner 
coats were replaced by coarse ones of fustian. 


326 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE CROWD LN" THE EARLY MORNING. 

When Richard and Isaac Thornycroft left the dining-room, 
so unobtrusively as not to draw attention to the fact, they 
passed through the small door at the further end of the hall. 
Isaac, the last, silently locked it, thereby cutting off all com- 
munication with the busy part of the house. Swiftly ascend- 
ing to Richard’s chamber, they changed their clothes for others 
which were laid out in readiness. Hyde, his clothes also 
changed, was in waiting at the foot of the stairs when they 
came down, and he crossed with Isaac to the coach-house 
opposite, built, as must be remembered, on a portion of the old 
ruins. Richard undid the door in the wall looking to the 
front, and stayed there until joined by the breathless Tomlett 
— as above seen. 

The dog-cart was in its place in the coach-house ; the 
broken old cart and the bundles of straw were in the corner ; 
all just as usual. Tomlett and Hyde removed the cart and 
the straw from their resting place (whence, by all appearance, 
they never were removed), and the brothers Thornycroft lifted 
a trap-door, invisible to the casual observer, that the straw had 
served to conceal. A flight of steps stood disclosed to view, 
which Isaac and Richard descended. The steps led to a 
subterranean passage ; a long, long passage running straight 
under the plateau and terminating in a vault or cavern, its 
damp sides glistening as the light of the lantern flashed upon 
it. Traversing this passage to the end, Isaac put the lantern 
down : then they unwound a chain from its pulley, and a 
square portion of the rock, loose from the rest, was jpulled in 
and turned aside by means of a pivot : thus affording an in- 
gress for goods, smuggled or otherwise, to come in. Xo 
wonder Robert Hunter had thought the rock sounded hollow 
just there ! 

Ah, Mr. Kyne had scented the fox pretty keenly. But not 
the huntsmen who rode him to earth. 

It took longer to do all this than it has to relate it. When 
Richard had helped Isaac to remove the rock, he returned 
along the passage on his way to the plateau. It was cus- 


THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 327 


ternary for one of the two brothers to stand on the plateau on 
the watch during" these dangerous feats, with his descending 
signal of warning in case of alarm. E/ichard took that post 
to-night. Oh, that it had been Isaac ! But it was marvellous 
how lucky they had hitherto been. Years had gone on, and 
years, and never a check had come. One great reason for this 
was that the late supervisor, Mr. Dangerfield — let us only 
wliisper it ! — had allowed himself to be bribed. What with 
that, and what with the horror the preventive men had of the 
plateau, the daring and profitable game had been carried on 
with imjDunity. Richard Thornycroft went on his way, little 
knowing the awful phantom that was pursuing him. 

Midway in the passage he met Hyde and Tomlett, tried and 
true men, on their way to join Isaac. Mr. Tomlett^s accident 
had occfurred during one of these night exploits — Whence his 
wife’s terrified consternation at being questioned by Miss 
Thornycroft. A strange chance had led, some years ago, to 
Mrs. Tomlett’s discovery of what her husband was engaged in 
at intervals : the woman kept the secret, but never was free 
from fear. 

Isaac Thornj'croft, left alone, proceeded with his necessary 
movements. By help of a long pole, thrust through the hole, 
he held forth a blazing flambeau, which for two minutes would 
light up the half-moon beach and the rocks behind it. It w’as 
the signal for the boats to put oft* from that especial vessel 
that was the object of the worthy supervisor’s abhorrence. 
And so the night’s secret work was fairly inagurated. Isaac 
Thornycroft held his signal for the approach of the boats, 
laden with their heavy spoil ; Eichard was speeding back to 
assume his watch overhead; and it was. just about this time, 
that Mr. Hunter had taken his departure from the Eed Court 
Earm. 

It is quite useless to speculate, now, why Eobert Hunter 
went on the plateau. Some power must have impelled him. 
These things, bearing great events in their train, do not occur 
by chance. Had he been questioned why, he probably could 
not have told. The most likely conjecture is, speaking 
according to human reason,* that he intended to stand a few 
moments on its brow, and sniff the fresh breeze from the sea, 
so grateful to his heated senses. He had taken more wine 
than usual ; certainly not to anything like intoxication, for he 
was by habit and principle a sober man. He had dined more 


328 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


freely ; the hot room, the talking, all had contributed to heat 
him ; and, following on it, came the interview with Lady Ellis. 
Whatever the cause, certain it is that, instead of pursuing the 
straight course of his road, like a sensible man, he turned off 
it and went on the plateau. 

It was a remarkabl}^ light night — as already said — clear, 
still, frosty, very bright. The clouds, passing occasionally 
over the face of the clear sky, seemed to be moved by an 
upper current that did not stir the air below. The sea was 
like silver ; no craft to be seen on it save one vessel that was 
hove-to close in-shore — a dark vessel, Ijdng still and silent. 
E/obert Hunter, at the very edge of the plateau, stood looking 
on all this : a peaceful scene ; the broad expanse of sea 
stretching out, the half-moon beach lying cold and solitary 
below. 

Suddenly a bright sheet of light shot out from underneath, 
illumining the half-moon, the rocks, and his own face, as he 
bent over to look. "Was he dreaming? — was his brain 
treacherous, causing him to see things that were not? There, 
half-way down the rocks, shone a great flame, a flickering, 
flaring, blazing flame, as of a torch ; and Eobert Hunter 
rubbed his eyes, and slapped his chest, and pinched his arms, 
to make sure he was not in a dream of wine. 

He stood staring at it, his eyes and mouth open ; stared at 
it until, by some mysterious process, it steadily' lowered it- 
self, and disappeared inside the rocks. Light — not of the 
torch — flashed upon him. 

The smugglers ! ” he burst forth : and the clear night air 
carried the words over the sea. ^^The smugglers are abroad 
to-night ! That must be their signal for the booty to approach. 
Then there is an opening in the rocks ! I’ll hasten and give 
word to Kyne.” 

Flying back straight towards the Eed Court, he had leaped 
the railings when he encountered Eichard Thornycroft, who 
seemed to be flying along with equal speed towards the pla- 
teau. Hunter seized his arm. 

‘^Eichard Thornycroft! Mr. Eichard! the smugglers are 
at work ! I have dropped upon them. Their signal has 
been hoisted beyond the rocks underneath.” 

What ? ” roared Eichard. 

It is true as that we are breathing here,” continued Hun- 
ter. went on the plateau, and I saw their light — ^ 


THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 


329 


flaming torch as big as your head. They are preparing to run 
the goods. It struck me there must be an opening there. I 
am going to fetch Kyne. Mr. Thornycroft, if he will come 
out, may be convinced now.” 

He would have resumed his way with the last words, but 
Eichard caught him. The slight form of Eobert Hunter was 
whirled round in his powerful grasp. 

“Do you see this? ” he hoarsely raved, his face wearing an 
awfully livid expression, born of anger, in the starlight. “It 
is well loaded.” 

Eobert Hunter did see it. It was the bright end of a pistol 
barrel, pointed close to his head. He recoiled, as far as he 
could, but the grasp was tight upon him. 

“ What, in Heaven’s name, do you mean ? ” 

^^You talk of Heaven, you treacherous cur!” panted Eich- 
ard. “ Down upon your knees — down, I say ! You shall talk 
of it to some purpose.” • 

By his superior strength, he forced the younger and slighter 
man to his knees on the waste ground as he would a child. 
The fur coat fell from Eobert Hunter’s arm, and lay beside 
him, a white heap streaked with black, in the starlight. 

“ How, theii ! Swear, by all your hopes of Heaven, that 
what you have detected shall never pass your lips ; shall be as 
if you had not seen it.” 

“ I swear,’ ^ answered Eobert Hunter. “ I believe I guess 
how it is. I will be silent ; I swear it.” 

“How and hereafter? ” 

“ How and hereafter.” 

“ Get up, then, and go your way. But, another word, first 
of all,” interrupted Eichard, as if a thought struck him. 
“ This must be kept secret from my sister.” 

“ I swear that it shall be, for me.” 

Holding Eobert Hunter still in his fierce grasp, he dictated 
to him yet another oath, as if not satisfied with the last one. 
In cooler moments neither of them might have acted as they 
were doing : Eichard had been less imperative, the other less 
blindly yielding. Eobert Hunter was no coward, but circum- 
stances and Eichard’s fury momentarily over-mastered him. 

He swore a solemn oath — Eichard dictating it — not to Jiold 
further communication with Mary Anne at present, either by 
word or letter ; not to do it until Eichard should of his own 
will voluntarily give permission for it. He swore again not 


330 


THE RED COURT FA.RM. 


to put foot within the Red Court Farm ; he swore not to write 
to any one of its inmates, failing this permission. The deter- 
mination not to be pestered with letters perhaps caused 
Richard to insist on this. Any way, the oaths were taken, 
and were to hold force for six months. 

^^Kow, then, go your way,” said Richard. Your path for 
departure lies there , and he pointed to the open highway 
leading from the entrance gates of the Red Court. ^^But 
first hear me swear an oath that I shall surely keep : If you 
do not go straight away ; if jmu linger on this spot unneces- 
sarily by so much as a few minutes ; if you, having once 
started, return to it again, I will put this bullet through your 
body. Cyril ! See him off; he was turning traitor.” 

Cyril Thornycroft had come strolling towards them, some- 
what at a distance yet; he did not catch the sense of his 
brother’s concluding words, but he saw that some explosion of 
anger had occurred Picking up the coat, Hunter put it on 
as he walked to join Cyril ; while Richard, as if under the 
pressure of some urgent errand, flew off across the lawn and 
flower-beds towards the coach-house ruins and the secret pas- 
sage leading from it. 

“ What is all this ? What does Richard mean ? ” inquired 
C^yril as they commenced their walk along the high road. 
“ He said something about a traitor. 

‘‘1 was not a traitor; your brother lies. Would I turn 
traitor to a house whose hospitality I have been accepting ? I 
saw, accidentally a light exhibited from the Half-moon rocks, 
and I guessed what it meant. I guess more now than I will 
repeat, but the secret shall be safe with me.” 

Safe now, and after your departure ? ” 

Safe always. I have sworn it.” 

I am sorry this should have happened,” said Cyril, after a 
pause. 

“ And so am I,” returned Robert Hunter. Circumstances, 
not my own will, led to it. It is a pity I missed the omnibus.” 

Yes,” said Cyril, speaking abstractedly, as if his thoughts 
were far away. But if you step out well you may be at J ut- 
point by half-past ten.” 

Scarcely so,” thought Robert Hunter. Cyril, perhaps, did 
not know the hour now. 

‘‘ What ! Have you missed the omnibus, sir ? ” 

The question came from a woman who met them, Captain 


THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 


331 


Copp^s servant Sarah. She was coming along without her 
bonnet in the frosty night. 

“Yes I have ; and must walk it for my pains,” answered 
Mr. Hunter. 

“ Are you going to the E-ed Court, Sarah ? ” asked Cyril. 

“lam, sir; Pm going there to fetch Miss Chester,” returned 
Sarah in her hardest tone. “ And a fine tantrum master’s in 
over it, roaring out that I ought to have come a good hour 
ago. Why didn’t they tell me, then ? ” 

Saying good night to the woman, who wished Mr. Hunter a 
pleasant journey, they continued their way, striking into the 
village; a silent village to-night. In the windows of the 
Mermaid above, lights were no doubt gleaming, but they were 
not near enough to that hospitable hostelry to see. Everybody 
else seemed abed and asleep, as was generally the case at 
Coastdown by nine o’clock on a Sunday night. 

Cyril had fallen into thought. Should he offer Hunter any 
apology or excuse for these practices of his house, so inoppor- 
tunely discovered, and which had always been so distasteful to 
him ? Better not, perhaps. What excusing plea could he 
justly offer ? And besides, he knew not how far the discovery 
went, or what Eichard had said. A feeling of resentment 
against Eobert Hunter rose up in his heart, in his anxiety to 
ward off ill from his fathers and brothers, in his jealous care 
for the fair fame of the Eed Court Farm. Good though he 
was, striving ever to follow in his Master’s footsteps of love 
and peace, Cyril Thornycroft was but human, with a human 
heart disposed by its original nature to passion and sin. 

“Let me advise you, at any rate for the present, not to hold 
communication with our house or its inmates,” he said, gently 
breaking the silence. “ In this I include my sister.” 

“ I have promised all that. Your brother was not satisfied 
with exacting a simple promise ; he made me swear it. I was 
to have written to Mary Anne on my arrival in town. Will 
you explain to her the reason wh}^ I do not ? ” 

“I thought you and my sister did not correspond,” inter- 
rupted Cyril. 

“ Heither do we. It was only to notify my safe arrival.” 

“ I will explain sufficient to satisfy her. I suppose I must 
not ask you to give her up ? ” 

“My intention is to win her if I can,” avowed Eobert 
Hunter. “ She would share my fortunes to-morrow, but for 


332 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


the fear that my position would not be acceptable to Mr. 
Thornycroft.” 

see ; it is decided. Well, in your own interest, I would 
advise you to break off all present relations with our house. 
Wliat has occurred to-night will not tend to increase E/ichard’s 
favor to you, and his opinion very greatl}^ sways iny father. 
Your visit here, taking it on the whole, has not been pleasant, 
or productive of pleasant results. Give us time to forget it 
and you for the 'present. Give Eichard time to forget the 
name and sojourn of Eobert Hunter.’’ 

“ You say you suggest this in my own interest ? ” 

do indeed,” answered Cyril, his good, calm face turning 
on the speaker with a kindly light. “ In yours and my sister’s 
jointly. She will be true to you I make no doubt ; and things 
may come about after a short while. If you have decided to 
take each otlier, if your best affections are involved, why 
should I seek to part you ? But I know whatEichard is; you 
must give him time to get over this.” 

^^True,” answered Eobert Hunter, his heart responding to 
the evident kindness. At any rate, there can be no question 
of my holding communication with the Eed Court Farm for 
six months, even by letter. It was a rash oath, no doubt ; I 
was not quite myself when I took it ; but I have undertaken 
not to write to any one of you until Eichard shall give me 
leave. At the end of the six months I suppose I shall hear 
from him ; if not, I shall consider myself at liberty to write — 
or to come.” 

“ You will surely hear from him if he has implied that you 
shall. Eichard never breaks a promise. And now that I 
have seen you thus far on your way. I’ll wish you well, and 
turn back again.” 

They had reached the end of the village, and he grasped 
Eobert Hunter’s hand with a warm and friendly pressure. 
The other was loth to part with him so soon. 

“ You may as well go with me as far as the Wherr3^” 

Eobert Hunter spoke not of a boat or of any landing for 
one, but of a lone and dismantled public house, standing 
about a couple of hundred yards farther. Its sign swung on 
it still, and rattled in the wind. Cyril acquiesced, and they 
went down into the bit of lonely road leading to it. 

We must go back for a moment to Eichard Thornycroft. 
He gained the ruins, and lifted the trap-door with, as it 


THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 


333 


seemed, almost superhuman strength, for it took of right two 
to do it. Completely upset hj what had occurred, Eichard 
was like a man half mad. He went thundering down the 
steps to the subterranean passage, his errand being to give 
warning to Isaac, and assist in hoisting two lights, which 
those on board the vessel would understand as the signal not 
to advance. He had reached the cavern at the end, when his 
alarm began to subside, to give place to reason ; and his steps 
came to a sudden stand-still. 

Why stop the boats ? ” he demanded of himself. If 
Hunter has cleared himself off — of which there can be no 
doubt — where is the danger ? ’’ 

Where, indeed ? He thought — Eichard Thornycroft did 
think — that Hunter was not one to play false after under- 
taking to be true. So, after a little more deliberation, some- 
what further of counsel with himself, he resolved to let things 
go on, and turned back again without warning Isaac. 

********* 

What mattered it that the contraband cargo was safely 
run ? What recked the guilty parties concerned in it of the 
miserable deed of evil it involved, while the valuable and 
double valuable booty got stowed away in silence and safety ? 
One was l^dng outside the Half-moon, while they housed it, 
with his battered face turned up to the sky — one whose 
departed soul had been worth all the cargoes in the world. 
The body was bruised, and crushed, and murdered — the body 
of Eobert Hunter ! 

How did it come there ? 

* ******** 

Coastdown woke lazily up from its slumbers with the dawn 
— not very early in January — and only got roused into life 
and activity by the startling piece of news that a shocking 
murder had been committed in the night. Hastening down 
to its alleged scene, the Half-moon beach, as many as heard 
it, shopkeepers, fishermen, and inhabitants generally, they 
found it to be too true. The poor man lay in the extreme 
corner of the strip of beach, right against the rocks, and was 
recognized for the late guest at the Eed Court Farm, Eobert 
Hunter. 

Not by his face ; for that was disfigured beyond possibility 


334 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


of recognition ; but by the clothes, hair, and appearance 
generally. He had been shot in the face, and, in falling from 
the heights above, the jagged edges of the rocks had also 
disfigured that poor face until not a trace of its humanity re- 
mained. 

The tide was low ; at present the passage to the beach was 
passable, and stragglers were flocking up. The frosty air was 
crisp, the sea sparkled in the early morning sun. Amidst 
others came Justice Thornycroft, upright, portly, a smile on 
his handsome face. He did not believe the report; as was 
evident hy his greeting words. 

What’s all this hullabaloo about a murder ? ” began he, 
as he shelved round the narrow ledge and put his foot upon 
the beach. How d’ye do, Kyne ? — How d’ye do, Copp — 
How d’ye do, all ? When Martha brought up my shaving- 
water just now, she burst into my room, her hair and mouth 
all awry with a story of a man having been murdered in the 
night at the Half-moon. Some poor drowned fellow,- 1 sup- 
pose, cast on the banks by the tide. What brings him so 
high up ? ” 

“ I wish it was drowning, and nothing worse, for that’s not 
such an uncivilized death, if it’s your fate to meet it,” re- 
turned Captain Copp, who was brisk this morning after his 
headache, and had stumped down on the first alarm. “ It’s a 
horrible land murder ; nothing less ; and upon a friend of 
yours, justice.” 

A friend of mine !” was the somewhat incredulous remark 
of Mr. Thornycroft. ^‘^Why, good Heaven!” he added, in 
an accent of horror, as the crowd parted and he caught sight 
of the body, it is my late guest, Kobert Hunter ! ” 

It is indeed,” murmured the crowd ; and the justice stood 
gazing at it with horror as he took in the ditferent points of 
recognition. The face was gone — that is the best term for one 
so utterly unrecognizable — but the appearance and dress were ^ 
not to be mistaken. 

“He’s buttoned close up in his fur coat, sir,” one of the 
crowd remarked. 

J ust so. He was buttoned up in his remarkable fur coat — 
as the village wrongly called it, for the coat was of white cloth, 
as we know, and its facings only of fur. It had stains on it, 
now, neither white nor black, and one of its sleeves was torn, 
no doubt by the rocks. The hat was nowhere to be found : it 


THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 


335 


never was found : but the natural supposition was, that in the 
fall it had rolled down to the lower beach, and been carried 
away by the tide. 

Mr. Thornycroft stooped, and touched one of the cold hands, 
stooped to hide the tears which filled his eyes, very unusual 
visitors to the eyes of the justice. 

Poor, poor fellow ! how could it have happened ? How 
could he have come here ? ” 

^^He must have been shot on the heights, and the shot 
hurled him over, there’s no doubt of that,” said Captain Copp. 

Must have been standing at the edge of the plateau.” 

“But what should bring him on the plateau at night?” 
cried Tomlett, who made one of the spectators. 

“What indeed!” returned the captain. “7 don’t know. 
A bare, bleak place even in daylight, with as good as no 
expanse of sea-view.” 

“ I cannot understand this,” said Justice Thornycroft, 
lifting his face with a puzzled expression on it. “Young 
Hunter took leave of us last night, and left for London. He 
missed the omnibus to Jutpoint and set off to walk. One of 
my sons saw him part of the way. What brought him back 
on the plateau ? ” 

“ Yes, he contrived to lose the omnibus,” interrupted Su- 
pervisor Kyne ; who, however, what with the wine and the 
brandy he had consumed, had a very confused and imperfect 
recollection of the events of the previous evening, hut did not 
choose to let people know that, and chose to put in his testi- 
mony. “ Mr. Hunter shook hands with me in the dining-room 
at the Bed Court, and I wished him a pleasant journey. That 
must have been — what time, Mr. Justice ?” 

“ Getting on for nine. And one of my boys saw him go.” 

“ It’s odd what could have spirited him back again,” ex- 
claimed Captain Copp. “ Which of them steered him off?” 

“I forget which,” returned the justice. “I heard Isaac say 
that one of them did. To tell you the truth, captain, I sat 
late in the dining-room last night, and my head’s none of the 
clearest this morning. How do you find yours, Kyne ? ” 

“ Oh, mine’s all right, sir,” answered the supervisor hastily. 
“ A man in ofiice is obliged to be cautious in what he takes.” 

“Ah, there’s no coming over ^mu,” cried the justice, with a 
side wink to Captain Copp. 

“ There’s Mr. Isaac hisself, a coming round the point now,” 
exclaimed one of the fishermen. 


336 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


The crowd turned and saw him. Isaac Thornycroft was ap- 
proaching with a rapid step. 

“They say Hunter is murdered !” he called out. “ It can- 
not be.” 

“He is lying here, stiff and cold, Isaac, with a bullet in his 
head,” was the sad reply of the justice. “ Shot down from the 
heights above.” 

Isaac stooped in silence. His fair complexion and fine 
color heightened by the morning air, \vere something bright to 
look upon. But, as he gazed at that sadly disfigured form, 
yesterday so animate with life and health, a paleness as of the 
grave overspread his face ; a shudder, which shook him from 
head to foot, passed through his frame. 

“What brought him here — or on the plateau?” he asked.‘ 
Almost the same w^ords his father had used. 

“ What indeed ! ” repeated Mr. Thornycroft. “ Did you tell 
me you saw him off, Isaac ? Or was it Richard ? ” 

“It w^as Cyril. I did not see him at all after he wdshed us 
good-bye on leaving the dining-room. But Richard, when he 
joined me later in the evening, said he had been — had been,” 
repeated Isaac, having rather hesitated at these words, “ say- 
ing* a parting word to Hunter, and that Cyril was walking part 
of the w'ay with him.” 

Throwing a pocket handkerchief lightly over the disfigured 
face, Isaac Thornycroft turned from it tow^ards the sea. The 
justice spoke. 

“ I wonder w^here Cyril left him ? ” 

To w^onder it- was only natural, but Mr. Thornycroft’s re- 
membrances of the matter, as to what he had heard, wliere al- 
together hazy. Shut up so long in the dining-room with his 
guests — for tliey had not parted until past midnight — doing 
his part as host at the pipes and grog, tliough not very exten- 
sively, for it was rare indeed that Mr. Thornycroft took too 
much, he was in a tired, sleepy state when Isaac had come to 
him after their departure to say that tlie w^ork was done, the 
cargo safely in. Isaac had added that he understood from 
Richard there had been some trouble with Hunter wdio had 
seen the torch-light exhibited on the Half-moon beacli, and 
Richard had been obliged to sw^ear. him to secrecy, and had 
sent Cyril to see him safe awa}^ Of all this, the justice re- 
tained an indistinct remembrance. 

“ Yes,” lie said slowly, “ I recollect now ; it w^as Cyril that 


TtlE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 337 

you said, Isaac. We must go and find Cyril, and ascertain 
where he parted with Hunter.” 

Why ! ” suddenly exclaimed a young fisherman of the 
name of East, I saw them both together last night ; the 
gentleman and Mr. Cyril. Ed been down at my old mother’s 
and was coming out to go home, when they passed, a walking 
in the middle of the road. I’d never have noticed ’em, may 
be, but for the fur coat, for they’d got some way ahead. I see 
them stop and stand together like, and shake hands as if they 
was about to part ; and then they went on again.” 

Both of them went on again ? ” questioned Isaac. 

Yes, sir, both. They went on into the hollow, and I came 
away.” 

This young man’s mother lived in a solitary hut at the end 
of the village : in fact, just where Cyril had proposed to leave 
Hunter, and East must have come out at the same moment. 

We’ll go at once and see what Cyril says,” resumed the 
justice, moving away. Hunter must have come back with 
him.” 

What is to be done with Mr. Hunter, sir ? ” questioned 
Tomlett, who had some sort of authority in the place. It did 
seem like a mockery to call that poor mass of death lying 
there Mr. Hunter.” 

He must be taken to the Mermaid,” was the reply of Jus- 
tice Thronycroft, as he left the beach with his son and three 
or four friends. You had better come up and see Pettipher : 
he’ll know what is right to be done. Don’t be all the morn- 
ing about it, Tomlett, or you will have the tide over the path.” 

Anything for more excitement in a moment like the pres- 
ent ! Tomlett, following closely on the steps of Justice. 
Thorny croft, went away with a fieet foot on his errand to the 
Mermaid, and the whole lot of hearers went racing after him : 
leaving Captain Copp, who could not race, and Mr. Supervisor 
Kyne to keep guard over the dead. Her Majesty’s officer 
might have gone with the rest, but that he was in a brown 
study. 

There’s more in this than meets the eye, captain,” he 
began, rousing himself. If this has not been the work of 
smugglers, my name’s not John Kyne.” 

Smugglers be shivered ! ” returned Captain Copp, who it 
was pretty well suspected in the village obtained his spirits 
and tobacco without any trouble to her majesty’s revenue : as 


338 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


did others. There are no smugglers here, Mr. Officer. And 
if there were, what should they want with murdering Eobert 
Hunter ? 

I have been on the work and watch for weeks, captain, 
and I know there is smuggling carried on j and to a deuced 
pretty extent.’^ 

We are rich enough to buy our own brandy and pay duty 
on it, Mr. Supervisor,” wrathfully retorted the offended cap- 
tain. 

Oh, psha ! I am not looking after the paltry dabs of 
brandy they bring ashore,” returned the customs’ officer. 

One may as well try to wash a blackamoor white as to stop 
that. I look after booty of more consequence. There are 
cargoes of dry goods run here ; foreign lace at a guinea a 
yard.” 

My eye ! ” ejaculated Captain Copp in amazement, who 
was willing enough to hear the suspicions, now he found they 
did not point to anything likely to affect his comfort. 

Where do they run them to?” 

“They run them here, as I believe ; here on the Half-moon ; 
and I suspect they must have a hiding-place somewhere in 
these rocks.” 

To describe the intense wonder depicted on the face of the 
ex-merchant captain would be impossible. It ended in a laugh 
of incredulity, anything but flattering to his hearer. 

“ I could swear it,” persisted the supervisor, “ There ! Only 
a few days ago, I was telling my suspicions to this poor fel- 
low ” — glancing over his shoulder — “ and he offered to help me 
ferret out the matter. He came down with me here, examined 
the rocks, sounded them (he was an engineer, as perhaps you 
know), and appointed a further hunt for tlie next day. I 
never saw a man more interested, or more eager to pounce on 
the oflenders. But before the next day arrived I happened to 
meet him, and he said he must apologize for not keeping his 
promise, but he preferred not to interfere further. When I 
pressed him for his reason he only hemmed and ha-ed, and 
said that, being a stranger, the neighborhood might deem his 
doing so an impertinence. Which of course was sheer rub- 
bish.” 

Captain Copp rather slow at taking in ideas, began consid- 
ering what his own opinion was. The supervisor went on, his 
tone impressive. 


THE CROWD IN THE EARLY MORNING. 


3.9 


captain, it is my firm belief that this sudden change 
and Mr. Hunter’s constrained manner, were caused by his 
having received some private hint from the smugglers them- 
selves not to aid me in my search ; and that it is nobody but 
they who have put it out of his power to do so.” 

Whew ! ” wdnstled the staggered captain. I could make 
more of a sinking ship than of what you say. Who are the 
smugglers ? How did they find out he was going to interfere 
— unless he or you sent ’em word ? ” 

“ I don’t know how they found it out. The affair is a mys- 
tery from beginning to end. Hobody was present at the con- 
versation except Miss Thornj’-croft. And she cannot be sus- 
pected of holding communication with smugglers.” 

This young fellow was a sweetheart of hers — eh ? ” cried 
, the shrewd captain. 

I don’t know anything about that. They seemed intimate. 
I could almost swear Old Hick has to do with this smuggling 
business,” added the supervisor, earnestly. A fortnight ago 
there was a dinner at the Red Court — ^you were there, by-the- 
way.” 

A jolly spread the old justice gave us! Prime drink and 
cigars,” chimed in the salt tar. 

^^Well — I was there: and one can’t be in two places at 
once. That very evening they managed to run their cargo ; 
ran it on, as I suspect, to this identical spot, sir,” cried the 
disconcerted officer, warming with his grievance. “Vexed 
enough I was, and never once have I been off the watch since. 
Every night have I took up my station on that cursed damp 
plateau overhead, my stomach stretched on the ground, to 
keep myself dark, and just half an eye cocked out over the 
cliff — and all to no purpose. Last night, Sunday, I went in 
again to dine with the hospitable justice, and I’ll be — I’ll be 
shivered, sir, as you sometimes say, if they did not take 
advantage of it, and run another cargo 1 ” 

Never, since the memorable time of his encounter with the 
pirates which resulted in the disabling him for life, had 
Captain Copp been so struck — dumb, as it were. Nothing 
was left of him but amazement. 

“ Bless and save m}^ wooden leg ! ” he exclaimed, when his 
tongue was found — “ It is unbelievable. How do you know 
it ? ” 

“ I know it, and that’s enough,” replied Mr. Kyne, too much 


340 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


annoyed to stand upon politeness, or to explain that his boast- 
ed knowledge was assumed ; not proved. But, here’s the 
devil of the thing,” he continued — “how did the smugglers 
know I was off the watch those two particular nights ? If it 
got wind the first night that I should be engaged at the Bed 
Court — though I don’t believe it did, for I can keep my own 
counsel, and did then — it could not have got wind the second. 
Five minutes before I went there last night, I had no notion 
whatever of going. Mr. Isaac looked into my rooms just 
before six, and would walk me off with him. I had had my 
chop at one o’clock, and was going to think about tea. Now 
how could the wretches have known last night that I was not 
on duty ? ” 

“ It’s no good appealing to me, how,” returned the captain. 
“I never w^as ’cute at breaking up marvels. Once, in the 
Pacific, there was a great big thing haunted the ship, bigger 
than the luggest sea-serpent, and ” 

“Depend upon it we have traitors in the camp,” uncere- 
moniously interrupted the supervisor ; for he knew by experi- 
ence that when once Captain Copp was fairly launched upon 
that old marvel of the Pacific ocean, there was no stopping 
him. “ Traitors round about us, at our very elbows and 
hearths, if we only knew in which direction to look for them.” 

“ Well, I am not one,” said the captain, “ so you need not 
look after me. A pretty figure my wooden standard would 
cut, running smuggled goods ! Why didn’t you tell all this to 
Justice Thorny croft ? He’s the proper person. He’s a mag- 
istrate.” 

“ I know he is. But if I introduce a word about smugglers 
he tlirows cold water on it directly, and ridicules all I say. 
Once he quite rose up against me, all his bristles on end, in 
defence of the poor fishermen. Upon that, I hinted that I 
was not alluding to poor fishermen, but to people and transac- 
tions of far greater importance. It stirred up his anger 
beyond everything ; he was barely civil, and turned away tell- 
ing me \jO find the people and catch ’em, if I could find ’em; 
but not. to apply to him.” 

“ Well, that’s reasonable,” said Captain Copp. “ Why 
you find ’em ? ” 

“ ]>ecause I cav^t find ’em,” deplored the miserable officer. 
“ There’s the aggravation. I don’t know in what quarter to 
look for them. The thing is like magic ; it’s altogether 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 


341 


shrouded in mystery. I don’t choose to speak of it publicly, 
or I might defeat the chance of discovery ; the only time I 
did speak of it, was to Mr. Hunter, and got sympathy and aid 
offered and returned to me. You see what has come of that.” 

It was only too evident what he thought had come of it. 
And perhaps he was not far wrong. But for that recent 
morning’s unlucky conversation between him and Bobert 
Hunter, no dead man might have been lying on the Half- 
moon beach, with Isaac Thoruycroft’s handkerchief covering 
his face. « 

Yes, that’s the difSculty — where to look for them,” 
resumed the mortified supervisor. I cannot suspect any of 
the superior people in the neighborhood. It’s true I do not 
know much of those Connaughts. But they don’t seem like 
smugglers either.” 

The Connaughts ! ” roared out the captain, taking up 
their cause as a personal offence. “ Why don’t you say it’s 
me ? Why don’t you say it’s yourself ? The Connaughts ! 
Who next, Mr. Supervisor? Why, old Connaught is bed- 
ridden half his time, and the son has got his eyes strained on 
books all day, learning to be a parson.” 

That’s true,” grumbled the officer, in his miserable 
incertitude. All I know is, I can’t fathom the affair, worry 
over it as I will.” 

Here comes the plank,” interrupted the captain. “ I 
shan’t stop to see that moved : so good morning to you, sir.” 

He stumped off, mortally offended ; and met Tomlett and 
the landlord of the Mermaid inn, with the long queue of 
curious idlers behind them. 


CHAPTEE XXV. 

SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 

In the breakfast-room at the Eed Court Earm, seated at its 
well-laid morning-table, was Eichard Thornycroft. ‘Seated at 
it only : not eating : his plate was unsupplied, his coffee stood 
cold before him. He seemed to be in some unpleasant medi- 
tation, every line of his dark face speaking of perplexity. 


342 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


To be broken in upon by the irruption of numerous visitors, 
evidently astonished him not a little. The attendants on Mr. 
Thornycroft had gathered on the way from the Half-moon 
beach, just as some balls gather in rolling, and six or seven 
friends followed in on the tail of the master of the Bed Court 
Farm. Isaac, on the contrary, seemed to have fallen away 
from it, for he did not enter with the rest. Bichard rose to 
welcome them, with scant courtesy. , 

Where’s Cyril?” began the justice. ^^Is he down 
yet?” 

I don’t know,” answered Bichard, taking out his W'atch 
and glancing at it. I have not seen him. It is early yet.” 

And Cyril never is very earl}^,” added the justice, quickly 
assuming that his youngest son was in his bed still. ‘^Have 
you heard the news. Bichard ? ” 

Yes,” was Bichard’s laconic answer. 

What do you think of it ? How do you suppose it could 
have happened ? ” 

I don’t think about it,” returned Bichard. I conclude 
that if he did not shoot himself, he must have got into some 
quarrelling fray. He drank enough wine last evening to heat 
his brain, and we had proof that he was fond of meddling in 
what did not concern him. The extraordinary part of the 
business is, what brought him back on the plateau, after he 
had once started on his journey.” 

I’ll go up and rouse Cyril, and know where he left Hunter. 
Gentlemen, if you will sit down and take some breakfast, we 
shall be glad of your company. There’s a capital round of 
beef. Hallo, you girls ! ” called out the justice, striding away 
in the direction of the kitchen, some of you come in here 
and attend. Sinnett, let some more ham and eggs be sent 
in.” 

^ Nothing loath, the gentlemen responded at once to the in- 
vitation : most of them had not breakfasted. The Bev. Mr. 
Southall made one. The round of beef was capital, as its 
master said ; the game pies looked tempting, the cold ham, 
the hot rolls, the fresh eggs, the toasted bacon, all were excel- 
lent. ApparentljT-^ the Bed Court Farm kept itself prepared 
for an impromptu public breakfast, just as well as it did for an 
impromptu dinner. 

Mr. Thornycroft ascended the stairs, and presently his voice 
was heard on the landing, calling to Cyril. But it died away 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 343 

in the echoes of the large house, and there was no answer, 
unless the opening of the door of his wife’s room by her maid 
could be called such. 

Did you want anything, sir?” she asked, looking out. 
Nothing particular. How is your lady this morning ? ” 
Much the same, sir, thank you.” 

The maid shut the door again, and Mr. Thornycroft went 
on to Cyril’s chamber. He found it empty. It was so 
unusual for Cyril to be up and out early, that he ffelt a sort of 
surprise. That he had not gone far, however, was evident, as 
his watch and purse lay on the chest of drawers. The justice 
crossed the corridor and knocked at his daughter’s room. 

Are you up, Mary Anne ? ” 

^^Yes,” responded a faint and hurried voice within. 

What do you want, papa ? ” 

I want you. Open the door.” 

But Miss Thornycroft did not obey. The justice, never 
remarkable for patience, when his behests were disregarded, 
laid hold of the handle and shook it with his strong hand. 

“ Open the door, I say, Mary Anne. What, girl ! are you 
afraid of me ? ” 

Miss Thornycroft slowly opened the door, and presented 
herself. She was in a handsome gray silk dress, but it looked 
tumbled, as if she had lain down in it, and her hair was rough 
and disarranged. It was the gown she had worn the previous 
evening, and it would almost seem as if she had done nothing 
to herself since going up-stairs to bed. The signs caught her 
father’s eye, and he spoke in astonishment. 

Why— what in the world, girl? You have never 
undressed yourself ! Surel}", you did not pay too much 
respect to the wine, as some of the men did ! ” 

‘'You know better than that, sir. I was very tired, and 
threw myself on the bed when I came up : I suppose sleep 
overtook me. Do not allude to it, papa, downstairs. I will 
soon change my dress.” 

“ Sleeping in your clothes does not seem to agree with you, 
Mary Anne : you look as white as if you had swallowed a 
doctor’s shop. Do you know anything of Cyril ? — that’s what 
I wanted to ask you.” 

“ No,” she replied, “ I have neither seen nor heard him.” 

Mr. Thornycroft came to the conclusion that Cyril had 
heard of the calamity, and gone out to see about it in his 


344 


THE RED COERT FARM. 


curiosity. Ho returned to the breakfast-room and said this. 
Sinnett, who was there, turned round and spoke.^ 

Mr. Cyril did not sleep at home last night, sir.” 

^‘Nonsense,” responded the justice. 

He did not, sir,” persisted Sinnett, in as positive a tone as 
she dared to use. 

^‘Not sleep at home!” cried Mr. Thornycroft, ironically. 
^^You must be mistaken, Sinnett. Cyril is not a night-bird,” 
he continued, turning his fine and rather free blue eyes on the 
company : he leaves late hours to his brothers.” 

‘‘When Martha took up his hot water just now, and 
knocked, there w^as no reply,” returned Sinnett, quietly. So 
she went in, fearing he might be ill, and found the bed had 
not been slept in.” 

For Cyril, who had never willingly been guilty of loose con- 
duct in his whole life, to sleep out from home secretly, was as 
remarkable a fact as the going regularly to bed at ten o’clock 
would have been for his brothers. Mr. Thornycroft not only 
felt amazement, but showed it. 

“ I cannot understand this at all. Fichard, do you know 
where he can be ? ” 

“ Not in the least. I was waiting for him to come down 
that I might question him where he parted with Hunter.” 

“ When did you see him last ? ” 

“W^hen he was going off last night with Huliter. I have 
not seen him since. He will turn up by-and-bye,” continued 
Eichard, carelessly. “ If a fellow never has stopped out to 
make a night of it, that’s no reason wdiy he never may. Per- 
haps he came to an anchor at the Mermaid.” 

Clearly there was reason in this. Cyril Thornycroft might 
have remained out from some cause or other, though he never 
had before, and the gentlemen fell to their breakfast again. 
But for the strange and unhappy fact of Hunter’s having 
come back to Coastdown, Mr. Thornycroft had concluded that 
Cyril must have walked with him to Jutpoint, and taken a 
bed there. 

“Go up to Miss Thornycroft, Sinnett,” said the justice. 
“ She does not seem well. Perhaps she would like some tea.’^ 
Giving a look round the table first to see that nothing more 
was wanted ^for the housekeeper liked to execute orders at her 
own time and will), she proceeded to Miss Thornycroft’s room. 
The young lady then had her hair down and her dress off, 
apparently in the legitimate process of dressing. 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 


345 


My goodness me, Miss Mary Anne, how white you look ! 
was the involuntary exclamation of the servant. ^^It is a 
dreadful thing, miss, but you must not take it too much at 
heart. It is worse for poor Mr. Hunter himself than it is for 
you.^^ 

Mary Anne Thornycroft, who had made a vain effort to 
hide her emotion and her ghastly face from the servant, 
opened her lips to speak, and closed them again, unable to 
utter a syllable. 

What a ^abj/ the justice must have been to make such 
haste to tell her ! thought the woman. For it never occurred 
to Sinnett tliat Miss Thornycroft could have gained the infor- 
mation from any other source ; or, rather, it may be more cor- 
rect to say that she knew it could not have been gained from 
any other. Sinnett, standing in the hall underneath at the 
moment, had heard her master’s knock for admission at iiis 
daugliter’s door, and the colloquy that ensued — not the words, 
only the sound of the voices. 

“ The whole village is up in arms,” continued Sinnett. It 
is an awful murder. Hyde — ’’ 

‘‘Don’t talk of it,” came the interrupting wail; ^^I cannot 
bear it yet. Is he found ? ” 

“ Poor wretch, yes ! with no look of a human face about 
him, they say,” was Sinnett’s answer. 

“ Shot down on to the Half-moon ? ” shuddered Miss 
Thornycroft, evidently speaking more to herself than to Sin- 
nett. 

“ In the fur corner of it. I’ll go and bring you a cup of 
tea, miss. You are shaking all over.” 

Mary Anne put out her hand to arrest her, but she was 
weak, feeble, suffering, and Sinnett went on, totallj^ regard- 
less. In the woman’s opinion there was no panacea for ills, 
whether mental or bodily, like a cup of strong tea, and she 
hastened to bring one for her young lady. The shortest way 
of doing this was to get it from the breakfast-room, and in 
went Sinnett. She was not disposed to stand on too much 
ceremony at the best of times, especially when put out. 
Occupying her position for many years as mistress of the in- 
ternal economy of the Fed Court Farm, she felt her sway in 
it, and she was warmly condemning her master for having 
spoken. For Sinnett was one who liked on occasion to set 
those about her to rights. The large silver teapot was before 


346 


THE RED COURT FARM. 

the justice. Siimett, a breakfast cup. in her band, went up 
and asked birn to fill it. • * . ? 

Wbat a pity it is, sir, that you told MisS Thornycroft so 
soon ; before she was well out of her bed !” began Sinnett in 
an under tone, as she stood waiting. “ Time enough for her 
to have beard such a horrid thing, sir, when she had taken a 
bit of breakfast. There she is, shaking like a child, not able 
to dress herself.” 

‘‘ I did not tell her,” returned Mr. Thornycroft aloud. 

What are you talking of? ” 

“ Yes, you did, sir.” 

I did not^ I tell you.” 

“ You must have told her, sir,” persisted Sinnett. The 
first thing she asked me was, whether the body was found on 
the Half-moon, and said it was shot down on to it. Nobody 
else has been to the room but yourself.” 

Take up the tea to your mistress, and don’t stand cavilling 
here,” interposed Richard, in a tone of stern command. 

Justice Tliornycroft brooked not contradiction from a ser- 
vant. Moreover, he began to think that his daughter must 
have got her information from Cyril. He rose from table and 
strode upstairs after Sinnett, following her into his daughter’s 
room. 

Mary Anne ” — in a sharp tone — did you tell that 
woman I disclosed to you what had happened to Hunter ? ” 

“No,” was the reply. 

“ Did I tell you that anything had happened to him ? ” 

“No, papa, you did not.” 

“ Do you hear what Miss Thornycroft says ? ” continued 
the magistrate, turning to the servant. “ I advise you not to 
presume to contradict me again. If the house were in less 
excitement, you should come in before them all, and beg my 
pardon.” 

A ghastly look of fear had started to the features of Miss 
Thornycroft. “ I — I heard them talking of it outside,” she 
murmured, looking at Sinnett. 

“Outside!” exclaimed Sinnett. 

“Underneath, in the herb-garden,” faintly added Miss 
Thornycroft, whose very lips were white as ashes. 

“ Then you did not hear of it from Cyril, Mary Anne ? ” 

“No, papa, I have not seen Cyril at all.” 

J ustice Thornycroft strode downstairs again^ Sinnett, who 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 347 

did not like to be rebuked — and, in truth, rarely gave occasion 
for it — looked rather sullea as she put down the cup and 
saucer. 

Nobody has been in the side garden since I got up,’’ 
cried Sinnett. 

Oh, it was before that,” too hastily affirmed Miss Thorny- 
croft. They were strange voices,” she hurriedly added, as 
if afraid of more questions. 

Sinnett shut the door on Miss Thornycroft, and went away 
ruminating. Something like fear had arisen to the woman’s 
own face. 

What does it all mean ? ” she asked herself, unconsciously 
resting the small silver waiter on the window-seat, as she 
stood looking out. She could not have heard anything out- 
side in the herb-garden, for nobody has had the key of it this 
morning; and as to people having been up here talking of it 
before I was up, the poor man had not then been found.” 

That some dreadful mystery existed, something that would 
not bear the light of day, and in which Miss Thornycroft was 
in some way mixed up, Sinnett felt certain. And, woman-like, 
she spoke out her thoughts too freely : not in ill-nature ;• not 
to do harm to Miss Thornycroft or anyone else ; but in tlie 
love of talking, in the wish to get her own curiosity satisfied. 
How had she learnt the news? Sinnett wondered again and 
again. What was it that had put her into this unnatural 
state of alarm and fear ? Regret she might feel for Robert 
Hunter; horror at his dreadful fate — but whence arose the 
fear? Shrewd Sinnett finally descended, her brain in full 
work. 

When the party in the breakfast-room had concluded their 
meal, which they did not spare, in spite of the sight their ej^es 
had that morning looked on, they departed in a body, each one 
privately hoping he should be the first to alight on Mr. Cyril. 
In the present stage of the affair, Cyril Thornycroft was re- 
garded as the one only person who could throw light upon it. 
It did not clearly appear where he could be. Richard’s sug- 
gestion of the Mermaid was an exceedingly improbable one. 
He was not there; he seemed not to be anywhere else; no- 
body appeared to have seen him since the previous night, wffien 
he was starting to walk a little wa}’- with Robert blunter. 

- Mr. Thornycroft sat down in the justice room to write to 
the coroner, and was interrupted by his eldest son. He looked 
up in expectation. 


348 THE RED COURT FARM. 

^‘Has Cyril turned up, Richard 

sir. Cyril’s not gone far. His portmonnaie and 
watch are in his room.” 

Yes, I caught a sight of them myself. It is strange whero 
he can he. I am rather uneasy.” 

There’s no occasion for that,” returned Richard. He 
must liave gone on to Jutpoint. There’s not a doubt of it.” 

‘‘Well, I suppose it is so. The curious part is, what 
brought Hunter back again when he was once fairly on the 
road ? They have been suggesting at the breakfast-table that 
he might have forgotten something ; and I suppose it was so. 
But what took him to the plateau ? ” 

Richard had his theory on that point. “ Curiosity, unjusti- 
fiable curiosity ; possibly a wicked, dishonorable resolution to 
betray us, after all,” were the words rising so persistently in 
his mind that he had some difficulty not to speak them. He 
did not, however ; he wished to spare unpleasantness to his 
father so far as might be. The only one to whom he gave the 
history of what took place on the previous night before part- 
ing with Hunter, was Isaac j and Isaac, as we know, had 
repeated just a word to his father. Mr. Thorny croft recurred 
to it now. 

“What was it Isaac said about you and Hunter, Richard? 
I alniost forget. That Hunter went on the plateau and saw 
the signal-light?” 

“ Hunter saw it. When he first quitted the house some 
devil’s instinct took him to the plateau. I met him as he was 
running down, made him promise to hold his tongue, and sent 
him off with Cyril. I could have staked my life — yes, my 
life,” added Richard, firmly — “ that he would not have come 
back again.” 

“ Was that all that passed ? ” 

“Oh yes, that was all,” carelessly returned Richard, who 
thought it well not to give the details of the unpleasant inter- 
view. “He and Cyril walked away together, and I fully 
assumed we had seen the color of his ugly face for the last 
time.” 

“And East saw them down at the Hollow, so they must 
have gone that far. Well, it’s very odd; but I suppose Cyril 
will clear it up.” 

Mr. Thornycroft drew down his spectacles before his eyes — 
they had been lifted while he talked— r-and went on with his 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 


349 


note to the coroner. Again E/ichard broke in, speaking 
abruptly. * ^ 

. I Sir, this affair of Hunter’s must be kept dark.” 

^^Kept dark!” echoed the justice. When a man’s found 
murdered, one can’t keep it dark. What do you mean, 
Dick ? ” 

“ I mean, kept as dark as the legal proceedings will allow. 
Don’t make more stir in it, sir, than is absolutely necessary. 
It would have been well to keep secret his having gone on the 
plateau at all ; but it’s known already, and can’t be helped 
now. Hush it up as much as you can.” 

But why ? ” 

Hush it impressively repeated Eichard, his dark face 
working with some inward agitation. shall know what to 
sa}' in regard to his having gone on the plateau before depar- 
ture ; you and Isaac had better be silent. Hush it up — hush 
it up 1 You will be at the coroner’s right hand, and ca-n sway 
him imperceptibly. It is essential advice, father.” 

“ What the deuce ! ” burst forth the magistrate, staring at 
his son; ^^you do not fear Cyril was the murderer of Hun- 
ter ? ” 

Ho, thank God ! ” fervently answered Eichard. Cyril 
would be the last in the world to speak an unkind word, let 
alone shoot a man. But, don’t you see, sir — too minute en- 
quiries may set them on the track of something else that was 
done on the Half-moon last night, and it would not do. That 
confounded Kyne has got his eyes and ears open enough, as 
it is.” 4 

By George ! there’s something in that,” deliberated the 
justice. “ My sympathy for Hunter put that out of my mind. 
All right, Dicky, now I have the cue.” 

Mr. Thornycroft sealed his note to the coroner, despatched 
it, and went upstairs to Lady Ellis’s room. She was up, and 
sitting on the sofa. He shook hands and en^uire^ how she 
had rested. For a long while, in fact since the beginning of 
her illness, their relations with each other had been but those 
of common acquaintance. He was wondering whether it 
would be well to tell her of the catastrophe ; but she had 
already heard of it, and sat, paler than usual, gazii^g^ at the 
idlers who were crowding the edge of the plateau’, leaning 
over it in their curiosity. That unusual sight would^alone 
have told her something was the matter. 


350 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


it possible that this can be true? she asheJ, in a low 
tone of distress. “Is Robert Hunter reallj^ murdered?^’ 

“ It is too true, unfortunately,’’ he answered ; “ at least, 
that he is dead. Whether murdered — as everybody has been 
in haste to say and assume — or whether accidentally shot, 
remains to be proved.” 

“ And what are the particulars ? What is known ? ” 

But here Mr. Thornycroft would not satisfy her, or could 
not stay to do it. His carriage was at the door to take him 
to Jutpoint, where he had magisterial business that could not 
be postponed. Mentioning just a fact or two, he quitted the 
room, and found Isaac talking rather sharply to Sinnett in the 
hall below. 

Sinnett had not allowed her doubts or her tongue to slumber. 
First of all she had talked to Hyde — of Miss Thornycroft’s 
curious demeanor, of her incautious avowal, of her remarkable 
state of alarm and fear ; and Hyde replied by telling her to 
“ hold her peace if she couldn’t talk sense.” She next, as it 
chanced, mentioned it to Tomlett, and he retorted that Sinnett 
was a fool. Sinnett felt wrathful ; and in some way or other 
the matter penetrated to the ears of Isaac. He did not 
believe it ; he felt sure that his sister knew nothing, and was 
taking Sinnett to task when Mr. Thornycroft descended. 

A few hast}’^ words from the three, and Mr. Thornycroft 
opened the door of his daughter’s parlor, where he understood 
she now was. Rather to his surprise, Richard was shut in 
with her. It was an unusual thing for him to be in-doors in 
the day-time. She wore a morning dress now, and looked 
much the same as usual, except that her face was pale and her 
hands trembled. Richard went out as they entered. 

“How, then,” said the justice, “we will have this cleared 
up. Where and from whom did you hear of this matter, 
Mary Anne ? ” 

She answered briefly, leaning her forehead on her hand, that 
she had heard people talking of it early in the morning below 
her window. Sinnett, anxious to justify herself, and very 
vexed that this should have come to the ears of her masters, 
said this could not be ; the key of the herb-garden was in her 
pocket, and nobody could have got into it. 

The plot of ground on the side of the house, under Miss 
Thornycroft’s window, where the herbs were grown, was 
enclosed. A small glass shed (it was not half large enough to 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 851 

be called a greenhouse) was at one corner of it, in which Sinnett 
had some plants. Three or four of these had been stolen one 
night, and since then Sinnett had kept the gate locked. 

Miss Thornycroft, her hand held up still as if to hide her 
face, persisted. She had heard voices underneath in the early 
morning, strange voices ; it was so unusual that she quietly 
opened her window to listen. They spoke of Mr. Hunter, and 
she caught distinctly the words murder,’^ and “ shot down 
from the heights to the Half-moon.’^ It was as if one man 
was telling another/^ faintly concluded Miss Thornycroft. 

I could only hope it was not true ; it frightened me terribly. 
As to how they could have been in the herb-garden, I suppose 
they must have got over the palisades.’^ 

Nothing more likely, that they might talk at leisure with- 
out interruption,’^ cried the justice, turning angrily on his 
housekeeper. Let the subject be dropped : do you hear, 
Sinnett ? How dare you attempt to raise a cabal ! What’s 
the matter with you to-day ? One would think you shot him 
down.” 

Striding across the hall, the justice went out to his restive 
horses, prancing and pawing the ground in their impatience. 
Isaac followed him. 

“ If you will allow me, sir, I should like to accompany you.” 
All right, Isaac; get up.” 

The justice drove away, his son by his side, his groom sit- 
ting behind, as he had once, years ago, driven away from the 
gate of Mrs. Chester ; but his daughter was with him then. 
Isaac’s errand to Jutpoint, unavowed, was to look after Cyril. 
Why it should have been so he could not have told, then or 
later, but an uneasy prevision lay on his mind that something 
or other was wrong, more than met the eye. 

Sinnett, nettled beyond everything at her master’s conclud- 
ing reproach, spoken though it was in irony, and at the turn 
of affairs altogether, flounced off to her kitchen, leaving Miss 
Thornycroft alone. She — Mary Anne Thornycroft — had 
made her explanation almost glibly, after the manner of one 
who has learnt a part by heart, and recites it. That some 
most awful dread was upon her — apart from the natural grief 
and horror arising from the murder, if it was murder — was 
indisputable ; and Sinnett felt sure of it still. 

Her face buried in her hands ; her body swaying backwards 
and forwards in her chair; her whole aspect evincing dire 


852 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


agony now she was alone, sat Mary Anne Thornycroft. In 
that one past night she seemed to have aged years. The 
knock of a visitor aroused her ; some curious gossip come to 
inquire and chatter and comment ; and she escaped upstairs, 
crossing Hj^de in the hall. 

I cannot see anyone, Hyde ; my head aches too much.” 
The door of her. stepmother^s room was open, and Lady 
Ellis called to her. One single moment of rebellion, of wish 
to escape, and then she remembered that she had not been in 
at all that morning, and also that it was well to avoid obser- 
vation just now. Lady Ellis sat as Mr. Thornycroft had left 
her ; her dark hair drawn simply from her wasted face, her 
purple morning-gown tied at the waist with a cord and tassel, 
its lace ruffles falling over her thin white hand. 

I was just going to ring and ask you to come up, Mary 
Anne. I must hear the particulars of this dreadful mystery ; 
I cannot rest until they are told. Look at them ! ” 

She pointed to the heights. Dotting the plateau, peeping 
in at the round tower, holding hands and waists for security 
as they bent forward over the edge to look at the scene of tlie 
tragedy below, were the idlers. Mary Anne sat down near 
the table, her elbow on it, her head leaning on her hand, her 
eyes bent on the carpet, and told the particulars that the world 
knew. Lady Ellis heard them to the end without comment. 

But why should he have gone on the plateau at all ? ” she 
questioned. 

I don’t know. He did go. As I stood at the door watcli- 
ing him oif, he turned from the road to the plateau. I saw 
him. I saw him cross the railings.” 

And your brother Bichard saw him ? ” 

Yes, as he was coming offl They stood talking for a 
minute or two. Bichard says. Cyril came up then, and he 
started to walk a little way with Bobert Hunter.” 

“ But what does Cyril say ? Where is he ? ” 

He has not been home since. They suppose he went on 
to Jutpoint and slept there. Hothing more except this is 
known.” 

But Mr. Hunter must have come back again ? ” 

Of course he must. It is his coming back that is so un- 
accountable.” 

And why — why should Cyril walk to Jutpoint, unless he 
walked with Mr. Hunter ? ” resumed Lady Ellis after a pause. 


SHOT DOWN FROM THE HEIGHTS. 353 

Miss Tliornycroft shook her head. It was in truth so much 
involved in doubt and mystery from beginning to end, that 
she felt unable to cope with it, even by conjecture, she said 
faintly.- The terrible point in it all seems to be in his hav- 
ing come back again.” 

‘^Nay, the terrible point is the attack upon him,” dissented 
her step-mother. ^^It might have been an accidental shot, 
after all. At what hour was it supposed to take place ? ” 

Miss Thornycroft could not say. Of course — yes — it 
might have been only accidental,” she assented with whiten- 
ing lips. 

Mary Anne, how ill you look ! ” 

Do I ? It frightened me you see. And I have a dread- 
ful headache,” she added, rising to escape those eyes bent on 
her with so much curiosity. I must go and lie down on the 
bed, if you will spare me.” 

Lie on my sofa,” said Lady Ellis. 

No, thank you. Shut in by myself, I may get to sleep.” 

Tell me one thing,” and Lady Ellis laid her hand on her 
step-daughter’s arm. Is any one suspected ? ” 

^^No; oh no.” 

I suppose, Mary Anne, it is quite sure that he is dead .^” 

A faint cry at the mockery of the almost suggested hope 
escaped Mary Anne’s lips. When the surgeon saw him at 
eight o’clock that morning, he thought he must have been 
dead about ten hours. 

Lady Ellis leaned back in her chair when she was left alone, 
her eyes closed, her wan hands clasped meekly on her bosom. 

Ah ! was he fit to go ? was he fit to go ? ” she murmured, 
the thought having lain on her as a great dream of agony. 
^^Had it been Cyril Thornycroft, there could be no doubt. 
But he ? Perhaps he was changed, as I am,” she resum- 

ed after a long pause. Oh ! yes, jes, it might have been so ; 
Bobert Hunter might have been ready. Thank God that he 
gave me his forgiveness last night ! ” 

22 


354 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTEE XXVI. 
th!e coroner’s inquest. 

The coroner’s inquest was held on Wednesday. Xothing 
could exceed the state of ferment that Coastdown was in : not 
altogether from the fact of the murder itself— for murder it 
was universally assumed to he, and was — hut also from ono 
or two strange'adjuncts that surrounded it. The first of these 
was the prolonged and unaccountable absence of Cyril 
Thornycroft ; the second arose from sundry rumors rife in the 
town. It was whispered on the Tuesday that two or three 
witnesses had been present when the deed was committed ; 
that they had seen it done; and the names of these, scarcely 
breathed at first, but gathering strength as the day wore on, 
were at length spoken freely : Miss Thornycroft, Miss Chester, 
and Captain Copp’s maid-servant, Sarah Ford. 

Whether the reports arose, in the first place, in consequence 
of Sinnett’s talking ; whether Sarah Ford had spoken a hasty 
word on the Monday morning, in her surprise and shock at 
what she heard ; or whether the facts had gone about through 
those strange instincts of suspicion that do sometimes arise in 
the most extraordinary manner, nobody can tell how or 
whence;, was not yet known. But the rumors reached the ear 
of the summoning officer, and at ten o’clock on the Tuesday 
night that functionary delivered his mandates — one at the 
Eed Court Farm, two at Captain Copp’s, for these witnesses to 
attend the inquest. Speaking afterwards at the Mermaid of 
what he had done, the excitement knew no bounds. 

Speculation was rife in regard to the most strange absence 
of Cyril Thornycroft. But not quite at first — not in fact, 
until the Wednesday morning — was any unpleasant feeling 
connected with it. It might have been in men’s minds — who 
could say it had not? — ^but on the Wednesday it began to be 
spoken. Was Cyril the guilty man ? Had lie^ in a scuffle or 
else, fired the shot that killed Hunter? 

The taint was carried in a whisper to the Eed Court Farm. 
It staggered Mr. Thornycroft ; it drove Isaac speechless ; but 
Eichard, in his usual fashion, went into a white heat of 
indignation. Cyril, who was one of the best men on the tace 


THE coroner’s INQUEST. 


355 


of the earth ! — who lived, as everybody knew, a gentle and 
blameless life, striving to follow, so far as might be, the 
example his Master set when He came on earth ! — who would 
not hurt a fly, who was ever seeking to soothe others battling 
with the world’s troubles, and help them on the road to 
Heaven ! — he kill Robert Hunter! Richard’s emotion over- 
whelmed him, and his lips turned white as he spoke it. 

All very true : if ever a man strove to walk near to God, it 
was certainly Cyril Thornycroft ; and Richard’s hearers 
acknowledged it. But — and this they did not say — good men 
had been overtaken by temptation, b}^ crime, before now ; and, 
after all, this might have been a pure accident. If Cyril 
Thornycroft were innocent, argued Coastdown, why did he 
run away ? Of course, his prolonged absence, if voluntary, 
was the great proof against him : even unprejudiced people 
admitted that. Mr. Thornycroft and his sons had another 
theory, and were not uneasy. It was not convenient to speak 
of it to the world ; but they fully believed Cyril would return 
home in a week or two, safe and sound ; and they also one 
and all, implicitly believed that ho was not only guiltless of 
the death of Robert Hunter, but ignorant of its having taken 
place. The fact of his having no money with him went for 
nothing — it has been mentioned that his purse was left in his 
room, — if Cyril had gone where they suspected, he could have 
what money he pleased for the asking. 

In this state of excitement and uncertainty, Wednesday 
morning dawned. As the hour for the coroner’s inquest drew 
near, all the world assembled round the Mermaid : to see the 
coroner and jury go in would be something. Captain Copp 
stumped about in a condition of wrath that promised momen- 
tary explosion, arising from the fact that his “ women-kind ” 
should be subpoenaed to give evidence on a land murder. 
What they might have to say about it, or what the}^ had not 
to saj, the captain was unable to get at ; his questioning had 
been in vain : Sarah was silent and sullen ; Anna Chester 
white and shivering, as if some great blow had fallen on her : 
and this unsatisfactory state of things did not tend to increase 
the captain’s equanimity. He had been originally summoned 
to serve on the inquest, but when the officer came to the house 
at ten on Tuesday night, he told him he had perhaps better 
not serve. All this was as bitter as aloes to the merchant 
captain. 


356 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


The inquest took place in the club-room of the Mermaid, 
the coroner taking his seat at the head of its long table cov- 
ered with green baize, while the jury ranged themselves round 
it. Justice Thorny croft was seated at the right hand of the 
coroner. They had viewed the body, which lay in an adjoin- 
ing room, just as it had been brought up. 

The first witness called was Mr. Supervisor Kyne, he hav- 
ing been the first to discover the calamity. With break of 
day on the Monday morning he went on the plateau. Hap- 
pening to look over as far as he could stretch, he saw what he 
thought to be Mr. Hunter asleep : the face was hidden from 
him as he stood above, but he knew him by his coat. Going 
round to the Half-moon beach, having been joined on his way 
by one or two fishermen, they discovered that the poor gentle- 
man was not asleep, but dead : in fact that he had been killed, 
and in a most frightful manner. 

The surgeon who had been called to examine the body spoke 
next. The cause of death was a shot, he said. The bullet 
had entered the face, gone through the brain, and passed out 
at the crown of the head. Heath must have been instan- 
taneous, he thought ; and the face had also been very much 
defaced by the jagged points of the rock in falling. In 
answer to the coroner, the surgeon said he should think it had 
been many hours dead when he was called to see it at half-past 
seven in the morning : nine or ten at least. 

The next witness was Mr. Thornycroft, who stood up to give 
his evidence. He spoke to the fact of the young man’s having 
been his guest for a short while at the Hed Court : that he 
had intended to leave on the Sunday night by the half-past 
eight omnibus for Jutpoint, to catch the train but had missed 
it. He then said he would walk it, wished them good-by, and 
left with that intention. He knew no more. 

Mr. Thornycroft sat down again, and llichard was called. 
He confirmed his father’s evidence, and gave some in addition. 
On the Sunday night he quitted the dining-room soon after 
the deceased, and went outside for a stroll. There he saw 
Hunter who appeared to have been on the plateau. They 
stood together a few moments talking, and just as they were 
parting Cyril came up. He, Cyril, said he would walk a 
little way with Hunter, and they turned away together. 

To walk to J utpoint ? ” interposed the coroner. 

^^Yes: speaking of Hunter. Of course I supposed my 
brpther would turn back almost immediately.” 


THE CORONERS INQUEST. 


357 


Were they upon angry terms one with the other ? ” 
Certainly not.” 

And you never saw either of them afterwards ? ” 

^^No,” replied Richard, in a low tone — which the room set 
down to uneasiness on the score of Cyril’s absence. I went 
indoors then.” 

You are sure that the deceased was then starting, posi- 
tivel^y starting, on his w^alk to Jutpoint ? ” 

I am quite certain. There is no doubt of it whatever.” 
What, then, caused him to come back again? ” 

I am quite unable to conjecture. It is to me one of the 
strangest points connected with this strange business.” 

Cause, indeed, had Richard Thornycroft to say so ! He, of 
all others, he alone, knew of the oath taken by Hunter not to 
come back; of the danger Hunter knew he would run in 
attempting it. To the very end of Richard’s life — as it 
seemed to him now — would the thing be a mystery to his 
mind : unless Cyril should be able to throw light upon it. 

Richard Thornycroft had no further testimony to offer, and 
Isaac was next examined. He could say no more than his 
father had said ; not having seen Hunter at all since the latter 
quitted the dining-room. Of the subsequent events of the 
night, he said he knew personally nothing : he was not out of 
doors. The fisherman. East, next appeared, and testified to 
having seen Cyril Thornycroft and Mr. Hunter together, as 
before stated. 

^‘Were you looking out for them?” asked a sapient jury- 
man. 

Looking out for ’em ? ” repeated East. Lawdv love ye, 
I warii’t a-looking out for nobody. I’d not have noticed ’em, 
maybe, but for Mr. Hunter’s white coat that he’d got buttoned 
on him. One couldn’t be off seeing thatP 
Call Cyril Thornycroft,” said the coroner. 

The calling of Cyril Thornycroft was a mere form, as the 
coroner was aware. He had learnt all the unpleasant rumors 
and suspicions attached to Cyril’s absence ; had no doubt 
formed his own opinion on the point. But he was careful 
not to avow that opinion ; perhaps also not to press for any 
evidence that might tend to confirm it, out of regard to his 
old friend. Justice Thornycroft. 

Have you any . suggestion to offer as to your son’s 
absence ? ” he asked in a considerate tone of the magistrate. 


358 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Mr. Thornycroft stood up to answer. His countenance was 
clear and open, his fine upright form raised to its full height : 
evidently he attached no suspicion to his son’s non-return. 

thint it will be found that he has only gone to see some 
friends who live at a distance, and that a few days will bring 
him home again. My reasons for this belief are good, though 
I would rather not state them publicly ; they are conclusive to 
my own mind, and to the minds of my two elder sons. And 
I beg to say that I affirm this in all honor, as a magistrate and 
a gentleman.” 

Again the coroner paused. Do you consider, Mr. Thorny- 
croft, that your son premeditated this visit ? ” 

Ho; or he would have spoken of it. I think that circum- 
stances must have caused him to depart on it suddenly.” 

Mr. Thornycroft was thinking of one class of circumstan- 
ces,” the coroner and jury of another. They could only con- 
nect any circumstances, causing sudden departure, with the 
tragedy of the night, with a sense of guilt. Mr. Thornycroft 
knew of another outlet. 

Is it usual for him to leave his watch and purse on the 
drawers, sir?” asked a juror. 

It is not unusual. He does so sometimes when changing 
his coat and waistcoat for dinner : not intentionally, but from 
forgetfulness. He is absent-minded at the best of times : not 
at all practical as his brothers are.” 

^^But what would he do without money on a journey?” 
persisted the gentleman. 

Mr. Thornycroft paused for a moment, considering his 
answer. It was exceedingly unfortunate that he could not 
speak out freely: Cyril’s .reputation had suftered less. 

The fact of his having left his purse at home does not 
prove he has no money with him,” said the justice. “ In fact, 
I believe he keeps his porte-monnaie in his pocket from habit 
more than anything else, and carries his money loose. Most 
men, so far as I know, like to do so. I examined the porte- 
monnaie this morning, and found it empty.” 

There was a slight laugh at this, hushed immediately. Mr. 
Thornycroft, finding nothing further was asked him, sat down 
again. 

Call Sarah Ford,” said the coroner. 

Sarah Ford came in, and Captain Copp, who made one of 
the few spectators, struck his wooden leg irascibly on the floor 


THE coroner’s INQUEST. 


359 


of the room : a respectable, intelligent-looking wonwn, quietly 
attired in a straw bonnet, a brown shawl with flowered border, 
with a white handkerchief in her gloved hands. She did not 
appear to be in the least put out at having to appear before 
the coroner and jury, and gave her evidence with the most 
perfect independence. 

The coroner looked at his notes; not of the evidence 
already given, which his clerk was taking down, but of some 
he had brought to refresh his memory. 

^^Do you recollect last Sunday evening, witness?” he 
asked, when a few preliminary questions had been gone 
through. 

^^What should hinder me?” returned the witness, ever 
ready with her tongue. It’s not so long ago.” 

Where did you go to that evening ?” 
went nowhere but to Justice Thornycroft’s.” 

For what purpose did you go there ? ” 

^^To fetch Miss Chester. She was to have been sent for at 
eight o’clock, but master and mistress forgot it. When it was 
on the stroke of nine they told me to go for her.” 

Which you did ? ” 

Which I did, without stopping to put anything on.” 

Did you meet anybody as you went ? ” 

^Wes ; nearly close to Fed Court gates I met Mr. Hunter 
and young Cyril Thornycroft.” 

^‘Walking together towards the village?” interposed the 
coroner. 

“Walking on that way. Mr. Hunter was buttoning him- 
self up tight in that blessed fine coat of his.” 

“ Did they seem angry with each other ? ” 

“FTo, sir; they were .talking pleasantly. Mr. Cyril was 
saying to the other that if he stepped out he would be at Jut- 
point by half-past ten. That was before they came close, but 
the air was clear and brought out the sound of their voices.” 

“ Did they speak to you ? ” 

“ I spoke to them. I asked Mr. Hunter if he had lost the 
omnibus, for, you must understand, Miss Chester had said in 
the afternoon that he was going by it, and he said ‘ Yes, he 
had, and had got to walk it.’ So I wished him a good jour- 
ney.” 

“Was that all?” 

“ All that he said. Mr. Cyril asked me was I going to the 


360 


# 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Court, and I said ‘ Yes, I was, to fetch Miss Chester,’ and 
that ^master was in a tantrum at its being so late.’ (An iras- 
cible word from Captain Copp.) With that they went their 
way and I went mine.” 

“ After that, you reached the Bed Court ? ” 

Of course I reached it.” 

Well, what happened there? Relate it in full.” 

Nothing in particular happened that I know of, except 
that the servants gave me some mulled wine.” 

While 3^ou were waiting ? ” 

Yes, while I was waiting; and a fine time Miss Chester 
kept me, although I told her about the anger at home. 
She—” 

Stay a moment, witness. How long do you think it 
was ? ” 

A quarter of an hour or twenty minutes. Quite that.” 

And now go on. We know the details, witness,” added 
the coroner, significantly. I tell you this, that you may 
relate them without being questioned at every sentence; it 
will save time.” 

Sarah looked at him. That he was speaking the truth was 
self-evident ; and she prepared to tell her stor^^ consecutivel}’’, 
without any suppression. The coroner w^as impatient. 

“ Speak up, w'itness. Miss Thoriij^^croft w'ent out with you. 
What induced her to go ? ” 

I suppose it was a freak she took,” replied the witness. 

When they said Miss Chester was ready I went into the 
hall, and Miss Thornycroft, in a sort of joke (I didn’t tli^nk 
she meant it) said she would come out with her. Miss Ches- 
ter asked her how she wmuld get back again, and she answered, 
laughing, that she’d run back, to be sure, nobodj^ was about 
to see her. Well, she put on her garden-bonnet, which hung 
there, and a shawd, and we came awa}^, all three of us. In 
going out at the gates they both turned on the waste land, 
towards the plateau. I saw ’em stop and stare up on it, as if 
they saw something; and I wdshed the^^’d just stare at our 
w^a^^ home instead, for I w^as not over w^arm, lagging there. 
Presently one of them said to me — for I had followed — ‘ Sarah, 
do look, is not that Robert Hunter walking about there ? ’ 
‘My eyes is too chilled to see so far, young ladies,’ sa^^s I; 
‘wdiat should bring Robert Hunter there, w^hen I met him as 
I came along, speeding on his journey to Jutpoint ? ’ ‘I can 


THE CORONER S INQUEST. 


361 


see that it is Robert Hunter/ returned Miss Thornycroft ; 
can see him quite distinct on that high ground against the 
sky.’ And with that they told me to wait there, and they’d 
just run up and frighten him. Precious cross I was, and I 
took oif my black stuff apron and threw it over my head, 
shawl fashion, thinking what a fool I was to come out on a 
cold frosty night without ” 

Confine yourself to the evidence,” sternly interrupted the 
coroner. 

Well,” proceeded Sarah who remained as cool and equable 
before the coroner and jury as she would have been in her own 
kitchen, I doubled my apron over my head, and down I sat 
on that red stone w^hich rises out of the ground there like a 
low milestone. In a minute or two somebody comes running 
on to the plateau, as if following the young ladies ” 

Prom what direction, witness ? ” 

I think from that of the Red Court Farm. It might have 
been from that of the village, but I think it was the other ; I 
am not sure either way. You see, I had got my apron right 
over me, and my head bent down on my knees, afeard of catch- 
ing the face-ache, and I never heard anything till he was on 
the plateau. When I saw him he was near the Round Tower, 
going straight up to it, as it were ; so he might have come 
from either way.” 

Did jmu recognize him ? ” 

Ho ; I didn’t try to. I saw it was a man, through the slit 
I had left in my apron. He was going fast, but stealthily, 
hardly letting his shoes touch the ground, as if he was up to 
no good. And I was not sorry to see him go there, for thinks 
I, he’ll hurry back my young ladies.” 

Witness — pay attention — were there no signs by wdiich 
you could recognize tjjat man ? How was he dressed As a 
gentleman ? — as a sailor ? — as a — ” 

As a gentleman, for all I saw to the contrary,” replied the 
witness, unceremoniously interrupting the coroner’s question. 

If I had known he was going on to the plateau to murder 
Mr. Hunter, you may be sure I’d have looked at him sharp 
enough.” 

‘^For all you saw to the contrary,” repeated the coroner, 
taking up the words ; what do you mean by that ? ” 

“Well, what I mean is, I suppose, that he might have been 
a gentleman or he might not. The fact is, I never noticed 


362 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


his dress at all. I think the clothes were dark, and I think 
he had leggings on — which are worn by common people and 
gentlemen alike down here. The stars was rather under a 
cloud at the time, and so was my temper.’^ 

“ Honestly acknowledged,” said the coroner. What sized 
man was he ? — tall or short ? ” 

^Wery tall.” 

Taller than — Mr. Cyril Thornycroft, for instance ? ” 

A great deal taller.” 

You are sure of this ? ” 

I am sure and certain. Why else should I say so ? ” 

Go on with your evidence.” 

minute or so afterwards, as I sat with my hack to the 
plateau and my head in my lap, I hea-rd a gun go off behind 
me.” 

^^Did that startle you?” asked an interrupting juryman. 

‘^No, I am not nervous. If I had known it w^as let off on 
the plateau it might have startled me, on account of the 
young ladies being there 5 but I thought it was only from 
some passing vessel.” 

It is singular you should have thought so lightly of it. 
It is not common to hear a gun fired on a Sunday night.” 

You’d find it common enough if you lived here, sir. 
What with rabbit and other game shooters, and signals from, 
boats, it is nothing in this neighborhood to hear a gun go ofl^ 
and it’s what nobody pays any attention to.” 

Therefore you did not ? ” 

Therefore I did not. And the apron I had got muffled 
over my ears made the sound appear further off than it really 
was. But close upon the noise came an awful cry ; and that 
was followed by a shrill scream, as if from a woman. That 
startled me, if you like, and I jumped lip, and threw oft‘ my 
apron, and looked on to the plateau. I could not see any- 
thing; neither the man nor the 3"oung ladies; so I thought it 
time to go and search after them. I had got nearly up to the 
Bound Tower, that ruined wall, breast high, which is on the 
plateau — ” 

“ You need not explain,” said the coroner, “ we know the 
place.” 

When a man darted out from the shade of it,” continued 
the witness. He cut across to the side of the plateau next 
the village, and disappeared down that dangerous steep path 


THE coroner’s INQUEST. 


363 


in the cliffs, which nobody afore, I guess, ever ventured down 
hut in broad daylight.” 

“Was it the same man you saw just before running onto 
the plateau ? ” 

“ Of course it was.” 

“ By what marks did you know him again ? ” 

“ By no marks at all. I should not know the man from 
Adam. My own senses told me it was the same, because 
there was no other man on the plateau.” 

“ Your own senses will not do to speak from. Bemember, 
witness, you are on your oath.” * 

“ Whether I am on my oath or off it, I should speak the 
truth,” was the response of the imperturbable witness. 

“ What next ? ” 

“ I stood looking at the man ; that is, at where he had 
disappeared ; expecting he was pitching down head foremost 
and getting half killed, at the pace he was going, when Miss 
Thornj'croft laid hold of me, shaking and crAung, almost beside 
herself with terror. Then I found that Miss Chester had 
fainted away, and was lying like one dead on the frosty grass 
inside the Bound Tower.” 

“ Wliat account did they give of this?” 

“They gave none to me. Miss Chester, when she came to 
herself, was too much shook to do it, and Miss Thornycroft 
was no better. I thought they had been startled by the man ; 
I never thought worse ; and I did not hear of the murder till 
the next morning. They told m.e not to say anjThing about 
it at home, or it would be known they had been on the pla- 
teau. So Miss Thornycroft ran back to the Bed Court, and I 
went liome with Miss Chester.” 

“ What else do you know about the matter ? ” 

“ I don’t know any more myself. I have heard plenty.” 

The witness’s “ hearing ” was dispensed with, and Captain 
Copp was requested to stand up and answer a question. The 
captain’s face, as he listened to the foregoing evidence, was 
something ludicrous to look upon. 

“ What account did Miss Chester and your servant give you 
of this transaction ? ” demanded the coroner. 

“ What account did they give me ? ” spluttered Captain 
Copp, to whom the question sounded as the most intense ag- 
gravation. “ They gave me none. This is the first time my 
ears have heard it. I wish I had been behind them with a 


364 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


cat-o’-nine-tails” — shaking his stick in a menacing manner— 
I’d have taught them to go gampusing on to the plateau, at 
night, after sweethearts ! I’ll send my niece back to whence 
she came ; her father was a clergjmian, Mr. Coroner, a rector 
of a parish. And that vile bumboat-woman, Sarah, with her 
apron over her head, shall file out of my quarters this day ; a 
sh e-pirate, a ” 

The coroner interposed. But what with Captain Copp’s 
irascibility and his real ignorance of the whole transaction, 
nothing satisfactory could be obtained from him, and the next 
witness called was Miss Chester. A lady-like, interesting 
girl, thought those of the spectators who had not previously 
seen her. She gave her evidence in a sad, low tone, trembling 
the whole of the time with inward terror. To a sensitive 
mind, as hers was, the very fact of harving to give her name as 
Anna Chester when it was Anna Thornycroft, would have 
been enough alarm. But there was worse than that. 

Her account of their going on to the plateau was the same 
as Sarah’s. It was ^^done in the impulse of the moment,” to 
frighten,” or speak to,” Bobert Hunter, who was at its 
edge. (A groan from Captain Copp). That they halted for a 
moment at the Bound Tower, and then found that a man was 
following them on to the plateau, so they ran inside to hide 
themselves. 

“ Who was that man ? ” asked the coroner. 

I don’t know,” was the faint reply. I am near-sighted.” 

Did you look at him ? ” 

We peeped out, round the wall. At least. Miss Thorny- 
croft did. I only looked for a moment.” 

Proceed, witness, if you please.” 

He had come quite close when I looked, and — then ” 

^^Then what?” said the coroner, looking searchingly at the 
witness, who seemed unable to continue. You must speak 
up, young lad3\” 

“ Then I saw him with a pistol — and he fired it off — and I 
w^as so terrified that I fainted, and remembered no more. It 
all passed in a moment.” 

A good thing if he had shot off your two figure-heads ! ” 
burst forth Captain Copp, who was immediately silenced. 

“ Was he tall or short, this man ? ” 

«Tall.” 

Did you know him ? ” proceeded the coroner. 


THE coroner’s INQUEST. 


365 


Oh no, no,” was Anna’s answer, putting up her hands, as 
if to ward off the approach of some terror, and she burst into 
a fit of hysterical crying. 

She was conducted from the room. Isaac Thornycroft 
advanced to give her his arm, but she turned from him and 
took that of the doctor, who was standing by. An impression 
was left on the mind of one or two of the listeners that Miss 
Chester could have told more. 

With the subsiding of the hubbub, the coroner resumed 
his business. 

Call Mary Anne Thornycroft.” 

Miss Thornycroft appeared, led in by her brother Hichard. 
She wore a rich black silk dress, a velvet mantle, and small 
bonnet with blue flowers. Her face was of a deadly white, 
her lips were compressed ; but she delivered her evidence with 
composure (unlike Miss Chester), in a low, deliberate, thought- 
ful tone. Her account of their going on to the plateau, and 
running inside the Hound Tower at the approach of some 
man, who appeared to be following them, was the same as 
that given by the last witness. The coroner inquired if she 
had recognized Hobert Hunter. 

Yes,” was the reply. I saw the outline of his face and 
figure distinctly, and knew him. I recognized him first by 
the coat he had on ; it was quite conspicuous in the starlight. 
He was standing bn the brink, apparently looking out over the 
sea. 

That was before you saw the man who came running on 
to the plateau ? ” 

Yes.” 

Who was that man ? ” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft laid her hand upon her heart, as 
if pressing down its emotion, before she answered. 

I cannot tell.” 

Did you not know him ? ” 

Upon your oath ? ” 

Miss Thornycroft again pressed her hands, both hands, upon 
her bosom, and a convulsive twitching was perceptible in her 
throat ; but slie replied, in a low tone, Upon my oath.” 

^^Then, he was a stranger ? ” 

She bowed her rigid face in reply, for the white strained 
lips refused to answer. Motions are no answers for coroners, 
and this one spoke again. 


366 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


I ask you whether he was a stranger ? 

Yes.'' 

^^Froni what direction did he come ? " 

I do not know. He w^as near the Eound Tower before I 
saw him." 

“You saw him draw the pistol and fire ? " 

“Yes." 

“ How, young lady, I am going to ask you a painful ques- 
tion, but the ends of justice demand that you should answer 
it. Was that man your brother, Cyril Thornycroft ? " 

“ Ho, she answered, in the sharp tone of earnest truth, “ I 
swear it was not — I swear it before Heaven. The man bore 
no resemblance whatever to my brother Cyril ; he was at least 
a head taller." 

“ Did he aim at Eobert Hunter ? " 

“ I cannot say. Eobert Hunter was standing with his face 
towards us then, and I saw him fall back, over the precipice." 

“With a yell, did he not ?" 

“ Yes, with a yell." 

“What then?" 

“I cannot tell what. I believe I shrieked— I cannot 
remember. I next saw the man running away across the 
plateau." 

“ The witness Sarah Ford's evidence would seem to say that 
he lingered a few moments after firing the pistol — before 
escaping," interposed the coroner. 

“ It is possible. I was too terrified to retain a clear recol- 
lection of what passed. I remember seeing him run away, 
and then Sarah Ford came up." 

“ Should you recognize that man again ? " 

Miss Thornycroft hesitated. The room waited in breathless' 
silence for her answer. “I believe not," she saidj “it was 
only starlight. I am sure not." 

At this moment, an inquisitive juryman spoke up. He 
wished to know how. it was that Miss Thornycroft and the 
other young lady had never mentioned these facts until to- 
day, wdien they had been drawn from them, as it were, by 
their oath. 

“Because," Miss Thornycroft replied, with, if possible, a 
deeper shade of paleness arising to her face — “ because they 
did not care that their foolish freak of going on to the plateau 
should come to the knowledge of their friends." 


ROBEKT hunter’s FUNERAL. 367 

Glad they have some sense of shame left in them/^ cried 
Captain Copp. 

The inquisitive juryman was not quite satisfied. He asked 
to have the maid-servant recalled ; and, when she appeared, 
put the same question to her. Why had she not told of it ? 

Why didn’t she tell ! was the independent retort. Did the 
gentlemen think she was going to bleat out to the world what 
the young ladies had seen, when they did not choose to tell of 
it themselves, and so bring ’em here to be browbeat and ques- 
tioned, as they had all been this day? Hot she. She was 
only sorry other folks had ferreted it out, and told. 

Very little evidence was forthcoming, none of consequence 
to the general reader. Supervisor Kyne voluteered a state- 
ment about smuggling, which nobody understood, and Justice 
Thornycroft at once threw ridicule upon. The coroner cut it 
short, and proceeded to charge the jury. Primarily remarking 
that, if the evidence was to be believed, Cj^ril ThornjT-croft 
must be held exempt from the suspicion whispered against 
him, he went on : If they thought a wicked, deliberate act of 
murder had been committed, they were to bring in a verdict 
to that effect; and if they thought it had not, they were not 
to bring it in so. Grateful for this luminious advice, the jury 
proceeded to deliberate — that is, they put their heads together, 
and spoke for some minutes in an undertone ; and then inti- 
mated that they had agreed upon their verdict. 

Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown.” 


CHAPTEK XXVIL 

ROBERT hunter’s FUNERAL, 

Piling out of the room in groups, came the crowd who had 
filled it. The day had changed. The brightness of the 
morning was replaced by a wintry afternoon- of grey sky; the 
air blew keen ; snow began to fall. The eager spectators put 
up their umbrellas, if they happened to possess any, and stood 
to talk in excited whispers. 

Crossing to the waste land, the roundabout road she chose 


868 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


to take on her way home, was Anna Chester. Sarah had gone 
striding up the nearest way; Captain Copp had been laid hold 
of by Supervisor Kyne, whose grievance on the score of the 
smugglers was sore ; and Anna was alone. Her veil drawn 
over her white face, her eyes wearing a depth of trouble never 
yet seen in their sweetness, went she, looking neither to the 
right nor left, until she was overtaken by Miss Thornycroft. 

Anna ! 

Mary Anne ! 

For a full minute they stood, looking into each other’s faces 
of fear and pain. And then the latter spoke, a rising sob of 
emotion catching her breath. 

lliank you for what you have done this day, Anna ! I 
was in doubt before ; I did not know how much you had seen 
that night ; whether you had not mercifully been spared all by 
the fainting fit. But now that you have given your evidence, 
I see how much I have to thank you for. Thank you truly. 
We have both forsworn ourselves; you less than I; but surely 
Heaven will forgive us in such a cause.” 

Let us never speak of it again,” murmured Anna. I 
don’t think I can bear it.” 

“ J ust a word first — to set my mind at rest,” returned Miss 
Thornycroft, as she stood grasping Anna’s hand in hers. 

How much did you see ? Did you see the pistol fired ? ” 

I saw only that. It was at the moment I looked out 
round the wall. The flash drove me back again. That and 
the cry that broke from Bobert Hunter: upon which I fainted 
for the first time in my life.” 

^^And you — you recognized him — him who fired the 
pistol?” whispered Miss Thornycroft, glancing cautiously 
round as the words issued from her bloodless lips. 

Yes, I fear so.” 

It was quite enough. Qualified though the avowal was, 
Mary Anne saw that she could have spoken decisively. The 
two unhappy girls, burdened with their miserable secret, looked 
into each other’s faces that sickness and terror had rendered 
white. Anna, as if in desperation to have her fears confirmed 
where no confirmation was needed, broke the silence. 

It — was — your — brother.” 

Yes.” 

Isaac.” 


ROBERT hunter’s FUNERAL. . 369 

Miss Thornycroffc opened her lips to speak, and closed them 
again. She turned her head away. 

You will not betray him — and us, Anna ? Ybu will ever 
be cautious — silent ? 

I will be cautious and silent always ; I will guard the 
secret jealously.” 

A sharp pressure of the hand in ratification of the bargain, 
and they parted, Anna going on her solitary way. 

Will I guard the secret ! Heaven alone knows how much 
heavier lies the obligation on me to do so than on others,” 
wailed Anna. May God lielp me to bear it ! ” 

Quick steps behind her, and she turned, for they had a ring 
that slie knew too well. Pressing onwards through the flakes 
of snow came Isaac Thornycroft. Anna set off to run; it was 
in the lonely spot by the churchyard. 

Anna ! Anna ! Don’t you know me ? ” 

Hot a word of answer. She only ran the faster — as if she 
could hope to outstep him ! Isaac, with his long, fleet strides, 
overtook her with ease, and laid his hand upon her shoulder. 

Like a stag brought to bay, she turned upon him, with her 
terror-stricken face, more ghastly, more trembling than it had 
yet been ; and by a dexterous movement freed herself. 

Why, Anna, what is the matter ? Why do you run from 
me ? ” 

There’s my uncle,” she panted. Don’t speak to me — 
don’t come after me.” 

And sure enough, as Isaac turned, he distinguished Captain 
Copp at a distance. Anna had set off to run again like a wild 
hare, and was half-way across the heath. Isaac turned slowly 
back, passed the captain with a nod, and went on, wondering. 
What had come to Anna ? Why did she fly from him ? 

He might have wondered still more had he been near her 
in her flight. Groans of pain were breaking from her ; soft 
low moans of anguish ; sighs, and horribly perplexing 
thoughts ; driving her to a state of utter despair. 

For, according to the testimony of her own eyes that ill- 
fated night, Anna, you see, believed the murderer to be her 
husband. Miss Thornycroft had now confirmed it. And, not 
to keep you in more suspense than can be helped, we must 
return to that night for a few brief moments. 

When Pichard Thornycroft darted into the subterranean 
passage with the intention of warning his brother Isaac, 

^23 


370 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


before he reached its end the question naturally occurred to 
him, Why stop the boats, now Hunter is off? and he turned 
back again. So much has been already said. But half-way 
down the passage he again vacillated — a most uncommon 
thing in Bichard Thornycroft, but the episode with Hunter 
had well nigh scared his senses away. Turning about again, 
he retraced his steps and called to Isaac. 

A private conference ensued. Bichard told all without 
reserve, down to the point where he had watched Hunter 
away, under the surveillance of Cyril. Will it be better to 
stop the boats or not ? he asked. 

There is not the slightest cause for stopping them, that I 
see,’^ returned Isaac, who had listened attentively. “ Cer- 
tainly not. Hunter is gone ; and if he were not, I do not 
think, by w’hat you say, that he would attempt to interfere 
further : he’d ratlier turn his back a mile the other way.” 

Let them come on, then,” decided Bicliard. 

‘^They are already, I expect, putting off from the ship.” 

Isaac Thornycroft remained at his work ; Bichard went back 
again up the passage. Hot quickly; some latent doubt, 
whence arising he could not see or trace, lingered on his mind 
still — his better angel perhaps urging him from the road he was 
going. Certain it was : he remembered it afterwards even 
more vividly than he felt it then : that a strong inclination lay 
upon him to stop the work for that night. But it appeared 
not to hold reason, and was disregarded. 

He emerged from the subterranean passage, lightly shut 
the trap-door — which could be opened from the inside at will, 
when not fastened down — and took his w^ay to the plateau to 
watch against intruders. This w^ould bring it to about the 
time that the two young ladies had gone there, and Sarah, her 
apron over her head, had taken her place on the low red stone. 
In her evidence the woman had said it might be a quarter of 
an hour or twenty minutes since she met Bobert Hunter start- 
ing on his journey ; it had taken Bichard about that time to 
do since wdiat he had done ; and it might have taken Bobert 
Hunter about the same space (or rather less) to walk quickly 
to the wheriy, and come hack again. And come back again ! 
Bichard Thornj’-croft could have staked his life, had the ques- 
tion occurred to him, that Hunter w'ould not come back; he 
never supposed any living man, calling himself a gentleman, 
could be guilty of so great treacher3\ But the doubt never 
presented itself to him for a moment. 


ROBERT hunter’s FUNERAL. 


371 


What then was his astonishment, as he ran swiftly and 
stealthily (escaping the sight of Sarah Ford, owing, no doubt, 
to her crouching posture on the stone, and the black apron on 
her head) up the plateau, to see Fobert Hunter ? He was at 
its edge, at the corner farthest from the village; was looking 
out steadily over the sea, as if watching for the boats and 
their prey. E-ichard verily thought he must be in a dream : 
he stood still and strained his eyes, wondering if they deceived 
him ; and then as ugly a word broke from him as ever escaped 
the lips of man. 

Thunderstruck with indignation, with dismay, half mad at 
the fellow’s despicable conduct, believing that if any in the 
world ever merited shooting, he did ; nay, believing that the 
fool must court death to be there after his, Richard’s, warning 
promise ; overpowered with fury, with passion, Richard 
Thornycroft stood in the shade of the Round Tower, his eyes 
glaring, his white teeth showing themselves from between the 
drawn lips. At that same moment Robert Hunter, after 
stooping to look over the precipice, turned round ; the ugly fur 
on the breast of his coat very conspicuous. May Richard 
Thornycroft be forgiven ! With a second hissing oath, he 
drew the pistol from his breast-pocket, pointed it with his 
unerring hand, and fired ; and the ill-fated man fell over the 
cliff with a yelling cry. Another shriek, more shrill, arose at 
Richard’s elbow from the shade of the Round Tower. 

Some cursed sea-bird,” he muttered. He has got his 
deserts. I would be served so myself, if I could thus have 
turned traitor ! ” 

But what was it seized Richard’s arm ? Hot a sea-bird. 
It was his sister Mary Anne, You here ! ” he cried, with 
increased passion. “ What the fury ! — have you all turned 
mad to-night ? ” 

You have murdered him ! ” she cried, in a dread whisper 
— for how could she know that Anna Chester had fallen sense- 
less and could not hear her ? — you have murdered Robert 
Hunter ! ” 

I have,” he answered. He is dead, and more than dead. 
If the shot did not take effect, the fall would kill him.” 

^^Oh, Richard, say it was an accident!” she moaned, very 
nearly bereft of reason in her shock of horror. What mad- 
ness came over you ? ” 

He earned it of his own accord ; earned it deliberately. 


872 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


I ]>eld my pistol to his head before, this night, and I spared 
him. I had him on his knees to me, and he took an oath to 
he away from this place instantly, and to be silent. I told 
him if he broke it, if he lingered here but for a moment, I 
would put the bullet into him. I saw him off ; I sent Cyril 
with him to speed him on his road ; and — see ! — the fool came 
back again. I was right to do it.’^ 

will denounce you \ she fiercely uttered, anger getting 
the better of other feelings. Ay, though you are my 
brother, Richard Thornycroft ! I will raise the hue and cry 
upon you.^^ 

You had better think twice of that,” he answered, shak- 
ing her arm in his passion. If jmu do, you must raise it 
against your father and your father’s house ! ” 

What do you mean ? ” she asked, quailing, for there was 
a savage earnestness in his words which told of startling 
truth. 

Girl ! see you no mystery ? Can’t you fathom it ? You 
would have aided Hunter in discovering the smugglers : see 
you not that we are the smugglers? We are running a cargo 
now — now” — and his voice rose to a hoarse shriek as he 
pointed to the Half-moon, ^^and he would have turned Judas 
to us ! He was on the watch there, on the plateau’s edge, 
doing traitor’s work for Kyne.” 

He did not know it was you he would have denounced,” 
she faintly urged, gathering in the sense of his revelation to 
her sinking heart. 

“ He did know it. The knowledge came to him to-night. 
He was abject enough before me, the cow^ard, and swore he 
would be silent, and be gone from hence there and then. But 
his traitor’s nature prevailed, and he has got his deserts. 
How go and raise the hue and cry upon us ! Bring your 
father to a felon’s bar.” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft, with a despairing cry, sank down 
on the grass at her brother’s feet. He was about to raise her, 
rudely enough it must be confessed, rather than tenderlj", when 
his eye caught the form of some one advancing ; he darted off 
at right angles across the plateau, and descended recklessly 
the dangerous path. 

The intruder was Sarah. Miss Thornycroft, passing off her 
own emotion as the effect of fear at the shot, though scarcely 
knowing how she contrived not to betray herself, remembered 


ROBERT hunter’s FUNERAL. 


373 


Anna. She lay within the walls in a fainting-fit. Only as 
they went in was consciousness beginning to return to her. 
It must be mentioned that at this stage Sarah did not know; 
any one had been killed. 

“ Who w^as the man ? asked Sarah of Miss Thornycroft. 

Did you see him ? w^as the only answer. 

^^Not to know him, miss; only at a distance. A regular 
fool he must be to fire off guns at night, to frighten folks ! 
Was it a stranger 

Yes.’^ Mary Anne wiped the dew from her cold brow as 
she told the lie. 

^^ They took their departure, Sarah promising not to say 
they had been on the plateau — to hold her tongue, in short, as 
to the events of the night, shot and all. But a chance passer- 
by who had heard the report, saw them descend. It might 
have been through him the news got wind. 

Mary Anne Thornycroft w^ent in. Sounds of laughter and 
glee proceeded from the dining-room as she passed it, and she 
dragged her shaking limbs upstairs to her chamber, and shut 
herself in with her dreadful secret. Anna Chester with her 
secret turned to the heath, even more dreadful ; for in the mo- 
mentary glimpse she caught of the man who drew the pistol, 
as he stood partly with his back to her, she had recognized, as 
she fully believed, her husband Isaac. Had the impression 
W'anted confirmation in her mind — which it did not — the tacit 
admission of his sister, now alluded to, supplied it. Miss 
Thornycroft had opened her lips to correct her, not Isaac, but 
Bichard and closed them again wdthout saying it. Thought 
is quick; and a dim idea flew through her brain, that to divert 
suspicion from Bichard might add to his safety. It was not 
her place to denounce him ; nay, her duty lay in screening 
him. Terribly though she detested and deplored the crime, 
she was still his sister. 

And the poor dead body had lain unseen where it fell, in the 
remote corner of the plateau. The smugglers ran their cargo, 
passing wdthin a few yards of the dark angle wdiere it lay, and 
never saw it. 

The funeral took place on the Friday, and Bobert Hunter 
was buried wdthin sight of the place from wdience he had been 
shot dowm. Any one standing on that ill-fated spot could seo 
the grave in the churchyard corner, close by the tomb of the 
late Mrs. Thornycroft. 


374 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


None of Ills friends had arrived to claim him. It would 
have been remarkable, perhaps, if they had, since they had 
not been written to. Of male relatives he had none living, so 
far as was believed. His sister Susan was in a remote district 
of Yorkshire, and it was a positive fact that her address was 
unknown to both Anna Chester and Miss Thornycroft. Of 
course, the Miss Jupps could have supplied it on application, 
but nobody did apply. His half-sister, Mrs. Chester, was also 
uncertain in her domicile, here to-day, there to-morrow, and 
Anna had not heard from her for some months. The old say- 
ing that Where there’s a will there’s a way,” might have 
been exemplified, no doubt, in this case ; but here there was 
no will. To all at Coastdown interested in the unfortunate 
matter, it had been a blessed relief could they have heard tliat 
Eobert Hunter would lie in his quiet grave unclaimed for ever, 
his miserable end not inquired into. Eichard Thornycroft had 
only too good personal cause to hope this, his sister also for his 
sake ; and Mr. Thornycroft, acting on tlie caution Eichard 
gave him as to the desirability of keeping other things quiet 
that were done on that eventful night, tacitly acquiesced in 
the silence. And Anna Chester — the only one besides who 
could be supposed to hold interest in the deceased — shuddered 
at the bare idea of writing to make it known ; rather would 
she have cut off her right hand. 

“They will be coming down fast enough with their 
inquiries from his office in London, when they find he does not 
return,” spoke Eichard gloomily the evening previous to the 
funeral. “No need to send them word before that time.” 

It was a snowy day. Mary Anne Thornycroft stood at the 
corridor window, from which a view of the path crossing from 
the village to the churchyard, could be obtained. Only for a 
few yards of it : but she watched carefully, and saw the 
funeral go winding past. The sky was clear at the moment ; 
the snow had ceased j but the whole landscape, far and near, 
presented a sheet of white, contrasting strangely with the 
sombre black of the procession. Such a thing as a hearse was 
not known in Coastdown, and the body was carried by eight 
bearers. The clerg^unan, Mr. Southall, walked first, in liis 
surplice— it was the custom of the place— having gone down 
to the Mermaid with the rest. Following it were Justice 
Thornycroft and his son Isaac, Captain Copp and Mr. Kyne, 
who acted as mourners ; and a number of spectators brought 


ROBERT hunter’s FUNERAL. 


375 


up the rear. Eichard had gone out to a distance that day ; 
he had business, lie said. Cyril. had not been heard of. Mr. 
Thornycroft bore the expenses of the funeral. Some money 
had been found in the pockets of the deceased, a sovereign in 
gold and some silver : nothing else except a white handker- 
chief. 

Mary Anne strained her eyes, blinded by their tears, upon 
the short line, as its features came into view one by one, more 
distinctly than could have happened at any time but this of 
snow. All she had cared for in life was being carried past 
there ; henceforth the world would be a miserable blank. 
Dead ! Killed ! Murdered ! — murdered by her brother, 
Eichard Thornycroft ! Had it been done by an^^body not con- 
nected with her by blood, some satisfaction might have been 
derived by bringing the crime home to its perpetrator. Had 
it been brought home to Eichard — and of course she could not 
move to bring it — he would have battled it out, persisting he 
was justified. He called it justifiable homicide; she called it 
murder. 

The distant line of black had passed now, and colors follow : 
men and women, boys and girls; displaying, if not all the 
tints of the rainbow, the shades and hues, dirt included, that 
prevail in the every-day attire of the great unwashed. Mary 
Anne glided into her room, and sank down on her knees in 
the darkest corner. 

Some time after, when she thought they might be coming 
home, for the mourners would return to the Eed Court, not 
the Mermaid, she came out again, her eyes swollen, and 
entered her step-mother's room. My lady, looking worse and 
worse, every day bringing her palpably nearer the grave, sat 
with her pi^ayer-book in her hand. She had been reading the 
burial service. Ah, how changed she was ; how changed in 
spirit ! 

'' I suppose it is over,” she said, in a subdued tone, as she 
laid the book down. 

Yes ; by this time.” 

May God rest his soul ! ” she breathed, to herself rather 
than to her companions. 

Mary Anne covered her face with her hand, and for some 
moments there was perfect silence. 

I shall be going hence to-morrow, as you know,” resumed 
Lady Ellis, never to return, never perhaps to hold further 


376 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


communication with the Red Court Farm. I would ask you 
one thing first, Mary Anne, or the doubt and trouble will 
follow me : perhaps mix itself up with my thoughts in dying. 
What of Cyril ? 

Of Cyril ? returned Miss Thornycroft, lifting her face, 
rather in surprise. We have not heard from him/^ 

Of course I know that. What I wish to ask is — what are 
the apprehensions ? 

“ There are none. Papa and my brothers seem perfectly at 
their ease in regard to him.” 

Then whence arises this great weight of care, of tribula- 
tion, that lies on you? — that I can see lies on you, Mary 
Anne ? ” 

It is not on Cyril’s account. The events of the last few 
days have frightened me,” she hastened to add. “ They have 
startled others as well as me.” 

Ah, yes ; true. And it seems to me so sad that you did 
not know the man who fired the pistol,” continued Lady 
Ellis, who had no suspicion that Miss Thornycroft had not 
told the wdiole truth. “ But to return to Cyril. If it be as 
you say, that they are easy about him, why, they must know 
something that I and others do not. I have asked j^our papa, 
but he only puts me off. Mary Anne, you might tell me” 

Mary Anne made no immediate reply. She was consider- 
ing what to do. 

“The thought of Cyril is troubling me,” resumed Lady 
Ellis. “As I lay- awake last night, I thought how much I 
owed him. Were he my own son, his welfare could not be 
dearer to me than it is. Surely, Mary Anne, whatever you 
may know of him, I may share it. The secret — if it be a 
secret — will be sacred with me.” 

“Yes, I am sure it will,” spoke Mary Anne, impulsively. 
“Not that it is any particular secret,” she added, with hesita- 
tion, framing the communication cautiously; “but still, papa 
has reasons for not wishing it to be known. lie thinks Cyril 
has gone to Holland.” 

“ To Holland ? ” 

“Yes; we have friends there. And a ship was lying off 
here on Sunday night with other friends on board. Some of 
them, subsequent to the — the accident — came on shore in a 
little boat, and papa and Richard feel quite certain that Cyril 
went on board with them when they returned. But there are 
reasons why this must not be told to the public.” 


CURIOUS RUMORS. 


377 


“ What a relief ! cried the invalid. My dear, it is safe 
with me. Dear Cyril ! he will live to fulfil God’s mission yet 
in the world. I shall not see him for a last farewell here, but 
we shall say it in heaven. Not a farewell there — a happy 
greeting.” 

A sort of muffled sound downstairs, and Mary Anne quitted 
the room to look. Yes, they were coming in in their black 
cloaks and hatbands, having left E-obert Hunter in the grave 
in St. Peter’s churchyard. 

For all that could be seen at present he seemed likely to lie 
there at rest, undisturbed, uninquired after. And the name 
of his slayer with him. 


CHAPTEE XXVIII. 

CURIOUS RUMORS. 

April. And a fine spring evening. 

The weeks have gone on since that miserable January time, 
bringing but little change to Coastdown or to those in it. 
Eobert Hunter rested in his grave, uninquired for — though as 
to the word rested” more hereafter — and Cyril Thornycroft 
had never returned. Lady Ellis had died in Cheltenham only 
a week after she went back to it. 

That Cyril’s remaining away so long and his not writing 
was singular in the extreme, no one doubted. Mr. Thorny- 
croft grew uneas}^, saying over and over again that some acci- 
dent must have happened to him. Eichard, however, had his 
private theory on the point, which he did not tell to the world. 
He believed now that Cyril and Hunter had returned that 
night together ; that Cyril had witnessed the deliberate shot, 
had put off to the ship, and in his condemnation of the act 
would not come home to the Eed Court so long as he, Eichard, 
was in it. 

But Eichard could not tell this to his father, and Mr. 
Thornycroft one morning suddenl}^ ordered his son Isaac 
abroad — to France, to Holland, to Flanders — to every place 
and town, in fact, where there was the least probability of 


378 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CyriPs being found. The illicit business they had been 
engaged in caused them to have relations with several places 
on the Continent, and Cyril might be at any one of them. 
Isaac had but now returned — returned as he went, neither 
seeing nor hearing ought of Cyril. It was beginning to be 
more than singular. Surely if Cyril were within postal 
bounds of communication with England, he would write ! 

^ The supposition, held from the first, that he had gone off 
in the smuggling Toats to the ship that night, and sailed with 
her on her homeward voyage, was far more probable than it 
might seem to strangers. Eichard and Isaac had each done 
the same, more than once ; as, in his 3munger daj^s, had Mr. 
Thornycroft, thereby causing no end of alarm to his wife. 
Cyril, it is true, was quite different in disposition, not at all 
given to wild rovings ; but the^" had assumed the fact, and 
been eas}^ Eichard, unwillingly, but with a view to ease her 
suspense, imparted the theory he had recently adopted to his 
sister ; and she thought he might be right. As Mary Anne 
observed to her own heart, it was a miserable business alto- 
gether, looked at from any point. 

Xo direct confidence had been reposed in Isaac. Eichard 
shrank from it. Isaac had many estimable qualities, although 
he helped to cheat Her INIajesty’s revenue, and thought it 
glorious fun. Eut he could not avoid entertaining suspicions 
of his brother, and one daj^ he asked a question. JS^ever 
mind,’^ shortl}" replied Eichard ; “ Hunter got his deserts.” 
It was no direct avowal, but Isaac drew his own conclusions, 
and was awfully shocked. He was as different from Eichard 
in mind, in disposition, in the view he took of things in 
general, as light is from dark. The blow to Isaac was dread- 
tul. He could not, so to saj^, lift up his head from it ; it lay 
on him like an incubus. JSfoiv, the coldness with which 
Anna had ever since treated him was explained, satisfactorily 
enough to his own mind. Ae a murderer’s brother, her avoid- 
ance of him was only natural. No doubt she was over- 
whelmed with horror at being tied to him. If he could but 
have divined that she suspected him ! But they were all go- 
ing in for mistakes ; Isaac amongst the rest. 

As if the real sorrow, the never-ceasing apprehension under 
which some of them lived, were not enough to bear, rumors 
were about to arise of an unreal one. 

On this evening, in early April, Miss Thornj^croft was alone. 


CURIOUS RUMORS. 


379 


As she paced her parlor, in the stately mourning robes of 
black silk and crape, ostensibly worn for her stepmother, the 
blight that had fallen on her spirit and her heart might bo 
traced in her countenance. The untimely and dreadful fate 
of E-obert Hunter, to whom she had been so passionately 
attached, was ever present to her; the false part she had 
played at the inquest reddened her brow with shame ; the 
guilt of her brother Eichard haunted her dreams. She would 
start up in fright from sleep, seeing the officers of justice com- 
ing to apprehend him ; she would fancy sometimes she saw 
her father taken, preparatory to the illicit practices he had 
carried on being investigated before a criminal tribunal. 
Mingling with this — worse, if possible, than the rest — was the 
keenest weight of self-reproach. She could not hide from 
herself, and no longer tried to do it, that her own deliberate 
disobedience had brought it all about — all, all ! But for flying 
in the face of her father’s express commands, in not stopping 
the visit of Eobert Hunter, he had been living now, and 
Eichard’s hand guiltless. 

All this was telling upon Mary Anne Thornycroft. You 
would scarcely know her, pacing the lonely drawing-room, 
pale and sad, for the blooming, high-spirited, haughty girl of 
two months before. Her father and Eichard had gone to 
London on business, Isaac was out, slie knew not where, and 
slie was alone. Her thoughts were dwelling on that fatal 
night — when were they ever absent from it ? — and were 
becoming, as they spmetimes did, unbearable. A nervous 
feeling came creeping over her ; it had done so at times of 
late, fearless thougli she was by nature : a horror of being 
alone ; a dread of her own lonely self ; of the lonely room and 
its two candles ; an imperative demand for companionship. 
She opened the door, and glided across the hall and lighted 
passages to the kitchen, framing an excuse as she went. 

Sinnett, will you — wliere’s Sinnett ? ” 

The maids, three of whom were present, stood up at her 
entrance. They had been seated at the table making house- 
hold linen. 

Sinnett is up stairs, miss. Shall I call her ? ” 

^^Ho; she will be down directly, I dare say. I’ll wait.’^ 

At that moment a sort of wild noise, half shriek, half howl, 
long-continued and ever-recurring, arose from without — at a 
distance, as yet. Mary Anne Thornycroft turned her ear to 


380 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


listen, her face blanching with dread fear ; the least thing was 
sufficient to excite fear now. 

The sounds approached nearer : they seemed to come from 
one in the very extremity of terror, and just then Sinnett 
entered the kitchen. Perhaps it has not been forgotten that 
the windows, of modern date, looked on the side walk, and 
thence towards the church and village. The shutters were 
not yet closed, the blinds not drawn down. In another 
instant, as the frightened women stood together in a group, 
one window was flung up, and a form propelled itself in, 
smashing a pane of glass. It proved to be Joe, the carter’s 
boy ; a sensitive, delicate lad, who had recently lost his 
mother, and was a favorite at the Bed Court Farm. He lay 
for a moment amidst the shivers of glass, then rose up and 
clasped tight hold of Sinnett, his white face and shivering 
frame, betokening some extraordinary cause of terror. 

They put him in a chair, and held him there, he clinging to 
them. Miss Tliornj^croft authoritatively stopped all questions 
until he should be calmer. Sinnett brought him some wine, 
and the boy tried to sip it ; but he could jiot keep his teeth 
still, and he hit a piece out of the glass. He looked over his 
shoulder at the window perpetually in ghastly fear, so one of 
the servants closed and barred the shutters. By degrees, he 
brought out that he had seen a ghost.” 

Ghosts were rather favorite appendages to Coastdown, as we 
have read. They were not less implicitly believed in by the 
lower classes (not to bring in others) than they used to be, so 
the maids screamed and drew nearer Joe. This ghost, how- 
ever, was not the old ghost of the plateau ; as the boy is 
explaining, sobbing between whiles ; but — Pobert Hunter’s. 

“ Nonsense ! ” reproved Sinnett. Don’t 3^11 be a coward, 
Joe, but just speak up and tell your tale sensibly. Come ! ” 

I went for the newspaper to Captain Copp’s, as sent,” 
answered the boy, doing his best to obey. Mrs. Copp 
couldn’t find it, and thought the captain had took it in his 
pocket to' the Mermaid. Coming back here to sa\- so, I see a 
figure in the churchyard hiding, like, behind a tombstone. I 
thought it were old Barkes, a-taking the short cut over the 
graves to his home, and I stood and looked at him. Tlien, as 
he rose himself a bit higher, I see him out and out. It were 
Mr. Hunter, with his" own face and his own coat on — that 
black and white thing.” 


CURIOUS RUMORS. 


381 


His own coat ! 

It were/^ groaned the lad. I never were thinking of 
anybody but Parkes, but’ when I once saw the coat and the 
face, I see it were Mr. Hunter. 

Joe^s hearers did not know what to make of this. Miss 
Thornycroft privately thought she must fall in a fit, too, she 
felt so sick and ill. 

Was the face — ’’ began one of the maids, and stopped. 
Remembering Miss ThornycrofPs presence, she substituted 
another word for the one she had been aboutto speak. Was 
the face red ? ’’ 

^^Ho. White. It—’' 

At this juncture there came a sharp knock at the window, 
as if the ghost were knocking to come in. The boy howled, 
the women shrieked ; and the ghost knocked again. 

Who’s there ?” called out Sinnett through the shutters. 

It’s me,” answered a voice, which they recognized for that 
of Sarah Ford. ^^Is the kitchen a-fire ?” 

Sinnett went to the entrance-door and called to her to come 
in. On occasions, when pressed for time, Sarah would give 
her messages at the kitchen- window, to save going round. 
She had brought the newspaper, one lent by the Red Court to 
Captain Copp : Mrs. Copp had found it after Joe’s departure. 

He have seen a ghost,” lucidly explained one of the maids, 
pointing to Joe. 

‘‘Oh,” said Sarah, who had a supreme contempt for such 
things, regarding them as vanities, akin to hysterics and smell- 
ing salts. 

“ I see it in the churchyard, close agin his own grave,” said 
the boy, looking helplessly at Sarah. 

“ See a old cow,” responded she, emphatically. “ That’s 
more likely. They strays in sometimes.” 

“It were Mr. Hunter’s ghost,” persisted Joe. “He wore 
that there fur coat, and he stared at me like anything. I see 
his eyes a-glaring.” 

“ The boy has been dreaming,” cried Sarah, pityingly, as 
she turned to Sinnett. “ I should give him a good dose of 
Epsom salts.” 

Which prescription Joe by no means approved of. However, 
Sarah could not stay to see it enforced j and we must go out 
with her. 

Her master had come in when she reached home. It was 


382 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


supper time, and she began to lay the cloth. Old Mrs. Copp 
was there: she had arrived the previous day (after spending 
the winter in London) on another long visit. Peering through 
her tortoise-shell spectacWs at Sarah, she told her in her de- 
cisive way that she had been twice as long taking home the 
newspaper as she need have been. 

“ I know that,’^ answered Sarah, with composure. A fine 
commotion I found the Ped Court in : the maids screeching fit 
to deafen you, and young Joe in convulsions. I thought the 
kitchen-chimbly must be a-fire, and they were trying whether 
noise would put it out.” 

The captain looked up at this. He was in an easy-chair at 
the corner of the hearth-rug, a glass of rum-and-water on a 
small stand at his elbow : old Mrs. Copp sat in front of the 
fire, her feet on the fender ; Amy was putting things to rights 
on a side-table near the sofa, and Anna Chester sat back on a 
low stool in the shade on the other side of the fire-place, a 
book on her knee, which she was making believe to read. 

Was the chimney on fire ? ” snapped Mrs. Copp. 

^^Just as much as this is,” answered Sarah, making a 
rattle with the knives and forks. Joe was telling them he 
had just seen Pobert Hunter’s ghost. The}’’ screeched at 
that.” 

The captain burst into a laugh : he had no more faith in 
ghosts than Sarah had. Sea-serpents and mermaids were 
enough marvel for him. Anna glanced up with a perceptible 
shudder. 

‘^By the way,” said Mrs. Copp, taking her feet off the 
fender and turning round to speak, I should like to come to 
the bottom of that extraordinary business. You slipped out 
of my questioning this morning, Anna ; I hardly knew how. 
Who was the man that fired the pistol on the plateau ? As 
to saying you did not see him properly, you may as well tell 
it to the moon. My belief is jo\i are screening him,” con- 
cluded shrewd Mrs. Copp, watching the poor girl’s gradually 
whitening face. 

If I thought that; if I thought she could screen him, 
Pd — I’d — send her back to Miss Jupp’s,” roared Captain 
Copp, who was still very sore in regard to the part his women- 
kind had played in the transaction. Screen a land mur- 
derer ! ” 

Anna burst out crying. 


CURIOUS RUMORS. 


883 


My impression is, that it was Cyril Thornjmroft^j^ 
resumed Mrs. Copp. he had not got something bad on 

his conscience why should he run away, and keep away.^^ 

Sarah took up the word, putting down a tray of tumblers 
to do it. He may have his reasons for staying away, and 
nobody but himself know anything about them. But truth’s 
truth, all the world over, and I’ll stand to it. I don’t care 
whether it was the King of England, or whether it was old 
Kick— it was not Cyril Thornycroft.” 

She is right,” nodded the captain. He’d be the least 
likely in all Coastdown to rush on to the plateau at night, 
armed like a pirate, and shoot a man. It was no more Cyril 
Thornycroft did that than it was me, mother.” 

^^But, Sarah, what about poor Joe and the ghost?” inter- 
posed her mistress gently, upon whom the tale had made an 
unpleasant impression. 

Some delusion of his, ma’am : as stands to reason. I 
don’t believe the boy has been right since his mother died ; he 
has had nothing but a down, scared look about him. He is 
just the one to see a ghost, he is.” 

Where did he see it ? ” 

In the churchyard, he says, with its fur coat on.” 

^^Fur coat!” broke in Captain Copp, his face aglow with 
merriment. ^^He meant a white sheet.” 

Ah, he made a mistake there,” said Sarah. And it was 
really something laughable to see how she as well as her mas- 
ter (mocking sceptics ! ) enjoyed the ghost in their grim way. 
In the midst of it, who should come in but Isaac Thornycroft. 

He had not been a frequent visitor of late, rather to the 
regret of the hospitable captain. Set at rest on the score of 
any surreptitious liking for him on Anna’s part — for it was 
impossible not to note her continual avoidance of him now — 
the captain would have welcomed him always in his pride and 
pleasure. Isaac Thornycroft was a vast favorite of his, and 
this was only the second visit he had paid since his return 
from abroad. Isaac looked as if he would like to join in the 
merriment, utterly unconscious what the cause might be. 

It’s the best joke I’ve heard this many a day,” explained 
the captain. Your boy up at the Bed Court — that Joe.” 

Yes,” said Isaac, the corners of his mouth relaxing in 
sympathy with the sailor’s. Well ? ” 

‘^He went flying through the air, bellowing enough to 


884 


THE TIED COURT FARM. 


grouse the neighborhood, and tumbled in at your kitchen win- 
dow in a fit, saying he had seen Eobert Hunter’s ghost.” 

Breaking the glass and setting the maids a-screeching like 
mad,” put in Sarah. He saw it in the churchyard, he says, 
in its fur coat.” 

A troubled expression passed across Isaac’s countenance. 
Captain Copp, attempting to drink some rum-and-water while 
he laughed, began to choke. 

What absurd story can they be getting up ? ” cried Isaac, 
sternly. ^^Some rumor of this sort — that Hunter had been 
seen in the churchyard — was abroad yesterday.” 

^^You never saw a boy in such a state of fright, sir,” 
observed Sarah. Whether he saw anything or nothing, he’ll 
not get over it this many a week.” 

Saw anything or nothing ! What d’ye mean ? ” fiercely 
demanded Captain Copp, suspending his laughter for the 
moment. What d’ye suppose he saw ? ” 

^‘Hot a ghost,” independently retorted Sarah. I’m not 
such a simpleton. But some ill-disposed fellow may have 
dressed himself up to frighten people.” 

“If so, he shall get his punishment,” spoke Isacc Thorny- 
croft, with the imperative authority of a magistrate’s son. 

Captain Copp broke into laughter still. He could not for- 
get the joke ; but somehow all inclination for merriment 
seemed to have gone out of Isaac. He sat silent and 
abstracted for a few minutes longer, and then took his leave, 
declining to partake of supper. 

“ Where’s Miss Anna gone ? ” cried the Captain to Sarah, 
suddenly missing her. “Tell her we are waiting.” 

Isaac lingered unseen in the little hall until she appeared, 
and took. her hand in silence. 

“Anna, this ” 

But she contrived to twist it from him and turned to the 
parlor. He drew her forciblj^ to him, speaking in a whisper. 

“ Are you going to visit upon me for ever the work of that 
miserable night ? ” 

“ Hush ! they will hear you.” 

But there was no other answer. Her face grew white, her 
lips dry and trembling. 

“Don’t you know that you are my wife ?” 

“ Oil, heaven, yes ! . I would rather have died. I would die 
now to undo tliat night’s work.” 


CUKIOUS RUMORS. 


885 


She seemed bewildered, as if unconscious of her words ; 
but there was always the struggle to get from him. Had he 
been an ogre who iniglit eat her, she could not have evinced 
more terror. Sarah opened the kitchen door, and Anna took 
the opportunity to escape. Ijrfaac looked after her. If ever 
misery, horror, despair, were depicted on a human countenance, 
they were on Anna’s. 

I did not think she was one to take it up like this,” he 
said, as he let himself out. And in the tone of his voice, des- 
pairing as her face, there was a perfectly hopeless sound, as if 
he felt that he could not combat fate. 

By the next ‘day the story of the ghost, singular to say, had 
spread all over Coastdown ; singular, because the report did 
not come from Joe, or from any of Joe’s hearers. It appeared 
that a young fellow of the name of Bartlet, a carpenter’s ap- 
prentice, in passing the churchyard soon after poor Joe must 
have passed it, saw the same figure, which he protested — and 
went straight to the Mermaid and protested — was that of Mr. 
Hunter. He was a daring lad of sixteen, as hardy as Joe was 
timid. The company at the Mermaid accused him of having 
got frightened and fancied it ; he answered that he feared 
“ neither ghost nor devil,” and persisted in his story with so 
much cool equanimity, that his adversaries were staggered. 

It is well known that the ghosts of murdered people have 
been seen to walk,” decided Mrs. Pettipher, the landlady, 
and that of poor Mr. Hunter may be there. But as to the 
fur-coat, that can’t be. It must have been an optical delusion 
of yours, Tom Bartlet. The coat’s here ; we have held pos- 
session of it since the inquest ; for the ghost to have it on in 
the churchyard is a moral impossibility.” 

I’ll never speak again if it hadn’t got the coat upon it,” 
loudly persisted young Bartlet. But for that white coat, star- 
ing out in the moonlight, I might never have turned my head 
to the churchyard.” 

Had it got that there black fur down it, Tom ? ” demanded 
a gentleman, taking his long pipe from his mouth to speak. 

In course it had. I tell ye it was t/ie coat, talk as you 
will.” 

This was the tale that spread in Coastdown. When the ad- 
ditional testimony of Joe and the maids at the Bed Court 
Farm came to be added to it, something like fear took posses- 
sion of three-parts of the community. The ghost of the 
24 


S86 


THE EED COURT FARM. 


plateau, so long believed in, was more a tradition than a ghost, 
after all ; latterl}^, at any rate, nobody had been frightened by 
it; but this spirit haunting the churchyard was real — at least 
in one sense of the word. An uncomfortable feeling set in. 
And when in the course of a day or two other witnesses saw 
it, or professed to see it, people began to object to go abroad 
after nightfall in the direction of *the churchyard. A young 
man in the telegraph office at Jutpoint brought over a message 
for Isaac Thornycroft. He was a stranger to Coastdown, and 
had to inquire his way to the Eed Court Farm : misunder- 
standing the direction, he took at first tho wrong turning, 
which brought him to the churchyard. Afterwards, tlie de- 
spatch at length delivered, he turned into the Mermaid for a 
glass of ale, saying incidentally, not in any fear, he had seen 
sum’at ” in the churchyard, a queer fellow that seemed to be 
dodging about behind the upright gravestones. He had never 
seen or heard of Eobert Hunter; he knew nothing of the re- 
port of the ghost; but his description of the ^^surn’at’’ tallied 
so exactly with the appearance expected, and especially with 
the remarkable coat, that no doubt remained. Upon which 
some ten spirits, well warmed with brandy-and-water, started 
off arm-in-arm to the church^^ard, there and then — and saw 
nothing for their pains but the tombstones. Captain Copp 
heard of the expedition, and went into a storm of indignation 
at grown men showing themselves to be so credulous. 

‘‘ Go out to a churchyard to look for a ghost ! Serve ’em 
right to put ’em into irons till their senses come to em ! ” 

Thus another day or two passed on, Mr. Thornycroft and 
Eichard being still absent from home. Fears were magnified; 
fermentation increased; for, according to popular report, the 
spirit of Eobert Hunter appeared nightly in St, Peter’s church- 
yard. 


ROBERT hunter’s GHOST. 


887 


CHAPTEE XXIX. 

ROBERT hunter’s GHOST. 

It was a gusty night ; the wind violently high even for the- 
seaside ; and Miss Thornycroft sat over the fire in her own 
sitting-room, listening to it, as it whirled round the house’ and 
went booming away over the waste of waters. 

Anna Chester was with her. Anna had shunned the Eed 
Court of late ; but she could not always refuse Miss Thorny- 
croft’s invitations without attracting notice ; and she had 
heard that Isaac was to be away from home that day. 

They had spent the hours unhappily. Heavy at heart, pale 
in countenance, subdued in spirit, it seemed to each that noth- 
ing in the world could bring pleasure again. Anna was 
altered just as much as Miss Thornycroft; worn, thin, 
haggard-eyed. Captain Copp’s wife, seeing the change in 
Anna, and knowing nothing of the real cause, set it down to 
one that must inevitably bring discovery of the marriage in 
its train, and was fretting herself into fiddle-strings. Dinner 
was over; tea was taken ; the evening went on. Quite unex- 
pectedly Mr. Thornycroft and his eldest son arrived ; Anna 
saw also, to her dismay, that Isaac was in ; but none of them 
approached the sitting-room. Hyde, coming in later to 
replenish the fire, said the justice was not very well, and had 
retired to rest ; Mr. Eichard and Mr. Isaac had gone out. 
And the two girls sat on together, almost hearing the beating 
of each other’s hearts. 

I wonder if the ghost is abroad this windy night ! ” 
exclaimed Anna, as a wild gust dashed against the windows 
and shook the frames. 

Don’t joke about that, Anna,” said Miss Thornycroft, 
sharply. 

Anna looked round in surprise : nothing had been further 
from her thoughts than to joke ; and indeed she did not know 
why she said it. Of course the report is a very foolish one,” 
she resumed. I cannot think how any people can profess to 
believe it.” 

Isaac saw it last night,” said Mary Anne, quietly. 

Nonsense ! ” cried Anna. 


388 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Ah ! SO I have answered when others said they saw it. 
But Isaac is cool and practical ; entirely without superstition ; 
the very last man I know, save perhaps Richard, to be led 
away by fear or fancy. He was passing the churchyard when 
he saw — if not Robert Hunter, some one dressed up to person- 
ate him ; but the features were Robert Hunter’s features, 
Isaac says ; they were for a moment as distinct as ever he had 
seen them in life.” 

Hid he tell you this ? ” 

Yes.” 

Could he have been deceived b}'- his imagination ? ” 

^^I think not. When a cool, collected man, like my brother 
Isaac, dispassionately asserts such a thing, in addition to the 
terrified assertions of others, I at least believe that there must 
be some dreadful mystery abroad, supernatural or otherwise.” 

A mystery ? ” 

Yes, a mystery. Putting aside all questions of the figure, 
how is it that the coat can appear in the churchyard, when it 
remains all the while in safe custody at the Mermaid ? ” 

Anna sat down, overwhelmed with the confusion of ideas 
that presented themselves. The chief one that struggled 
upwards w^as — how should she ever have courage to pass the 
churchyard that night ? 

Mary Anne ! wliy did he not speak to it ? ” 

Because some people came up at the time, and prevented 
it. When he looked again the figure was gone.” 

Precisely so. All this, just as Mary Anne described it, had 
happened to Isaac Thornycroft on the previous night. Robert 
Hunter, the hat drawn low orT his pale face, tlie unmistakeable 
coat buttoned round him, had stood there in the churchyard, 
looking just as he had looked in life. To say that Isaac 
was not staggered would be wrong — he was — but he recovered 
himself almost instantly, and was about to call out to the 
figure, wdien Mr. Kyne came past with young Connaught, and 
stopped him. Isaac and his family had to guard against 
certain discoveries yet ; and in the presence of the superinten- 
dent of the coastguard, wdiose suspicions were already too rife, 
he did not choose to proceed to investigation. 

Silence supervened. The young ladies sat on over the fire, 
each occupied with her sad and secret thoughts. The time- 
piece struck half-past eight. 

What can have become of Sarah ? ” exclaimed Anna. 


ROBERT hunter’s GHOST. 389 

Mrs. Copp was not well, and my Aunt Amy said she should 
send for me early.^^ 

Scarcely had the words left her lips, when that respectable 
personage entered head foremost. Giving the door a bang 
she sank into an arm-chair. Anna stood up in wonder ; Miss 
Thornycroft looked round. 

You may well stare, young ladies, but I can’t stand upon 
no forms nor ceremonies just now. I don’t know whether my 
senses is here or j^onder, and I made bold to come in at the 
hall door, as being the nearest, and make straight for here. 
There’s the ghost at this blessed moment in the churchyard.” 

Anna, with a faint cry, drew near to Miss Thornycroft, 
and touched her for company. The latter spoke. 

Your fancy must have deceived you, Sarah.” 

If anything has deceived me, it’s my eyes,” returned 
Sarah, really too much put out to stand on any sort of cere- 
mony whether in speech or action — “ which is what they never 
did yet, Miss Thornycroft. When it struck eight my mis- 
tress told me to go for Miss Chester. I thought I’d finish my 
ironing first, which took me another quarter of an hour ; and 
then I put my blanket and tiling^ away to come. Just as I 
was opening the house door I heard the master’s voice singing 
out for me, and went into the parlor. ^ Is it coals, sir ? ’ I 
asked. ^ No, it’s not coals,’ says he ; and I saw by his mouth 
he was after some nonsense. ^ It’s to tell you to take care of 
the ghost.’ ‘ Oh, bran the ghost,’ says I ; ^ I should give it a 
knock if it come anigh me.’ And so I should, young ladies.” 

Go on, go on,” cried Mary Anne Thornycroft. 

I come right on to the churchyard, and what we had been 
saying made me turn my eyes to it as I passed. Young 
ladies,” she continued, drawing the chair closer, and dropping 
her voice to a low, mysterious key, if you’ll believe me, there 
stood Robert Hunter. He was close by that big tombstone of 
old Marley’s not three yards from his own grave ! ” 

Mary Anne Thorn^mroft seemed unwilling to admit belief 
in this, in spite of what she had herself been relating to Miss 
Chester. Rely upon it, Sarah, your fears deceived you.” 

Miss, I hadn’t got any fears ; at any rate, not before I 
saw him. There he was : his features as plain as ever they’d 
need be, and that uncommon coat on, which I’m sure was 
never made for anybody but a Guy Fawkes.” 

Were you frightened then ? ” 


390 


THE RED COURT EARM. 


I was not frightened, so to say, but I won’t deny that I 
felt a creepishness in my skin ; and I’d have given half-a- 
crown out of my pocket to see any human creature come up to 
bear me company. I might have spoke to it if it had give 
me time : I don’t know : but the moment it saw me it glided 
amid the gravestones, making for the back of the church. I 
made off too as fast as my legs would carry me, and come 
straight in here. I knew my tongue must let it out, and I 
thought it better for you to hear it than them timorous ser 
vants in the kitchen.” 

Quite right,” murmured Miss Thornycroft. 

I never did believe in ghosts,” resumed Sarah ; ‘‘ never 
thought to do it, and I’m not going to begin now. But after 
to-night, I won’t mock at the poor wretches that have been 
frightened by Bobert Hunter’s.” 

What now was to be done ? Anna Chester would not at- 
tempt to go home and pass the churchyard with no protector 
but Sarah. Hyde was not to be found ; and there seemed 
nothing for it but to wait until Bichard or Isaac came in. 

But neither came. Between nine and ten Captain Copp 
made his appearance in hot anger, shaking his stick and 
stamping his wooden leg at Sarah. 

Had the vile hussey taken up her gossiping quarters at the 

Bed Court Farm for the night? Did she think 

I could not get Miss Chester away,” interposed Sarah, 
drowning the words. ‘^The ghost is in the churchyard. I 
saw it as I came past.” 

The sailor-captain was struck dumb. One of his women- 
kind avow belief in a ghost? He had seen a mermaid him- 
self ; which creatures were known to exist ; but ghosts were 
fabulous things, fit for nothing but the fancies of marines. 
Any sailor in his fo’castle that had confessed to seeing ghosts, 
would have got a taste of the yardarm. Get your things on 
this minute,” concluded the captain, angrily, to Anna. I’ll 
teach you to be afraid of rubbishing ghosts ! And that vile 
bumboat woman ! coming here with such a tale ! ” 

“ It’s my opinion ghosts is rubbish, and nothing better; for 
I don’t see the good of ’em ; but this was Bobert Hunter’s for 
all that,” spoke the undaunted bumboat-woman.” I saw 
his face and his eyes as plain as ever I see my own in the 
glass, and that precious white coat of his with the ugly fur 
upon it. Master, you can’t say that I gave as much as half 
an ear to this talk before to-night.” 


ROBERT hunter’s GHOST. 


391 


^^You credulous sea-serpent!’^ was the captain’s retort. 

And that same coat lying yet in the tallet at the Mermaid 
with the blood upon it. just as it was taken off the body! 
Ugh ! tie upon 3^ou!” 

“ If there’s apparitions of bodies, there may be apparitions 
of coats,” reasoned Sarah, between whom and her choleric but 
good-hearted master there was always a light for the last 
word. “ If it hadn’t been for knowing his face, I should say 
some ill-conditioned jester had borrowed the coat from the Mer- 
maid and put it on.” 

Away pegged the captain in his rage, scarcely allowing him- 
self to si\y good-night to Miss Thorn j^croft ; and away went 
Sarah and Miss Chester after him, as close as circumstances 
permitted. 

As they neared the churchyard Anna ventured to lay hold 
of the captain’s arm, and bent her head upon it, in spite of 
his mocking assurances that a parson’s daughter ought to be 
on visiting terms with a churchyard ghost ; trusting to him 
to guide her steps. The captain was deliberating, as he 
avowed afterwards, whether to guide her into the opposite 
ditch, believing that a ducking would be the best panacea for 
all ghostly fears ; when Sarah, who was a step in the rear, 
leaped forward and clung violently to his blue coat-tails. 

There ! ” she cried in a shrill whisper, before the aston- 
ished gentleman could free his tails or give vent to proper 
indignation, “ there it is again, behind old Marley’s tomb ! 
Now then, master, is that the coat, or is it not? ” 

The captain was surprised into turning his eyes to the 
churchyard ; Anna also, as if impelled by some irresistible fas- 
cination. It was too true. Within a few yards of them, in 
the dim moonlight — for the cloudy moon gave but a feeble 
light — appeared the well-known form of the ill-fated Robert 
Hunter, the very man whose dead body Captain Copp had 
helped to lay in the grave, so far as having assisted as a 
mourner at his funeral. 

The captain was taken considerably aback ; had never been 
half so much so before an unexpected iceberg ; his wooden leg 
dropped submissively down and his mouth flew open. He had 
the keen eye of a seaman, and he saw beyond doubt that the 
spirit before him was indeed that of Robert Hunter. Report 
ran in the village afterwards that the gallant captain would 
have made off, but could not rid himself from the grasp of his 
companions. 


392 


THE EED COURT FARM. 


Hallo! you sir!” he called out presently, remembering 
that in that vile Sarah’s presence his reputation for courage 
was at stake, but there was considerable deference, not to say 
timidity, in his tone, what is it you want, appearing there 
like a figure-head ? ” 

The ghost, however, did not wait to answer ; it had already 
disappeared, vanishing into air, or behind the tombstones. 
Captain Copp lost not a moment, but tore away faster than he 
had ever done since the acquisition of his wooden leg, Anna 
sobbing convulsively on his arm, and Sarah hanging on to his 
coat-tails. A minute afterwards they were joined by Isaac 
Thorny croft, coming at a sharp pace from the direction of the 
village. 

Take these screeching sea-gulls home for me,” cried the 
sailor to Isaac. I’ll go down to the Mermaid, and with my 
own eyes see if the coat is there. Some land-lubber’s playing 
a trick, and has borrowed Hunter’s face and stole the coat to 
act it in.” 

Spare yourself the trouble,” rejoined Isaac. I have 
come straight now from the Mermaid, and the coat is there. 
We have been looking at it but this instant. It is under the 
hay in the room over the stable, doubled up and stiff, having 
dried in the folds.” 

I should like to keelhaul that ghost,” cried the discomfited 
captain. I’d rather have seen ten mermaids.” 

Isaac Thornycroft, with an imperative gesture, took Anna 
on his own arm, leaving the captain to peg on alone, with 
Sarah still in close proximity to the coat-tails. He did not 
say what he had been doing all the evening, or why lie should 
have come up at that particular juncture. 

Upon the return of E-ichard to the Eed Court an hour or 
two earlier, Isaac drew him at once out of the house to impart 
to him this curious fact of Hunter’s ghost — as Coastdown 
phrased it — making its appearance nightly in the churchyard. 
Truth to say, the affair was altogether puzzling Isaac, bring- 
ing him trouble also. He had seen it himself the previous 
evening. Who was it ? what did it want ? whence did it 
come ? That it wore Hunter’s face and form was indisputable. 
What then was it? His ghost? — a kind of marvel which 
Isaac had never yet believed in, — or a man got up to person- 
ate him ? Of course what Isaac feared was, that it might 
lead to discovery of various matters connected vyith the past, 


ROBERT hunter’s GHOST. 


393 


He imparted all this to Richard. Richard scorned the 
information at first, ridiculed the affair, would not believe in 
the fear. Isaac proposed that they should go together to the 
churchyard, conceal themselves behind a convenient tomb- 
stone, watch for the appearance, and pounce upon it. Richard 
mockingly refused ; if he went at all to the place he’d go by 
himself and deal with the ghost ” at leisure. At present he 
had business with Tomlett. 

They went together to Tomlett’s cottage, and sat there talk- 
ing. The baker’s boy came up on an errand ; and as Mrs. 
Tomlett answered the door they heard him tell her that the 
ghost was then — then — in the churchyard, his face and his 
coat awful white.” 

^^The coat has been stolen from the Mermaid,” spoke 
Richard in his decisive tones. 

The fact was easy to be ascertained,” Isaac answered. 
And, rising at once from his seat, he went to the Mermaid 
there and then. Calling Pettipher, they went up the ladder 
to the tallet, and Isaac convinced himself that there the coat 
lay, untouched, and in fact unusable. Prom thence he went 
his way to the churchyard, intending to see what he could do 
with the ghost himself, and thus overtook Captain Copp and 
his party. 

Nothing of this did he say to Anna. Leaving the ghost 
for tlie time being, he went on to Captain Copp’s. She held 
his arm, not daring to let it go; her mind in a state of 
extreme distress. Trembling from head to foot went she ; a 
sob breaking from her now and again. 

What can it be looking for ? ” burst from her in her grief 
and perplexity. For you ? ” 

For the thought, the fear that had been beating its terrible 
refrain in her brain was, that Robert Hunter’s spirit, unable to 
rest, had come to denounce his destroyer. Such tales had 
over and over again been told in the world’s history : why 
should not this be but another to add to them ? 

Anna ! ” answered Isaac in a tone of surprise and remon- 
strance, ^^you cannot seriously believe that it is Hunter’s 
spirit. Why talk nonsense ? ” 

Which reply she looked upon as an evasive one. 

Can you solve the mystery ? ” she asked. That thing 
in the churchyard wears as surely Hunter’s face and form as 
you wear yours or I mine. It is not himself : he is dead and 
buried ; what then is it ? ” 


894 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


his ghost/^ spoke Isaac. Whether he, the cool- 
headed, practical, worldly man, who believed hitherto in ghosts 
just as much as he did in fairies, felt perfectly sure himself 
upon the point now, at least he deemed it right to insist upon 
it to his wife. 

No more was said. But for Captain Copp’s turning back 
to converse with Isaac (having in a degree recovered his equa- 
nimity) he might have striven to get an explanation with his 
wife there and then. 

Come in, come in, and take a sup of brandy,’’ cried the 
hospitable captain when they arrived at his house. That 
beast of a ghost ! ” 

Oh, Sarah, what can have kept you ! ” exclaimed the cap- 
tain’s wife, in as complaining a tone as so gentle a woman 
could use. I had everything to do m^^self ; the gruel to 
make for Mrs. Copp, the hot water to take upstairs ; the ” 

^^It is not my fault, ma’am,” interrupted the subdued 
Sarah, as she rubbed her shoes on the mat. Miss Chester 
was afraid to come home with me alone. There’s Bobert 
Hunter in the churchyard.” 

Amy Copp glanced at her husband, expecting an explosion 
of wrath at the words. To her surprise, the captain heard 
them in patient silence, his face as meek as any lamb’s. 

Bring some hot water, Sarah, and get out the brandy,” 
said he. 

Mixing a stitf glass for himself, Isaac declining to take any, 
he passed another in silence to Sarah. Anna had escaped up- 
stairs : her usual custom when Isaac was there. 

^^Much obliged, sir, but I don’t care for brandy,” was 
Sarah’s answer. “My courage is coming back to me, 
master.” 

Amy looked from one to the other, not knowing what to 
make of either. “Have you really seen anything?” she 
asked. 

“ Seen Hunter, coat and all,” gravely replied the captain. 
“ Shiver my wooden leg, if we’ve not ! I say, mother,” he 
called out, stumping to the foot of the stairs. “ Mother ! ” 

“What is it, Sam?” called back Mrs. Copp, who was 
beginning to undress, and had not yet taken her remedies for 
the cold. 

“ Mother, you know that mermaid in the Atlantic — the last 
voyage you went with us ? You wouldn’t believe that I saw 


ROBERT hunter’s GHOST. 


395 


it ; you’ve only laughed at me ever since : well, I’ve seen the 
ghost to-night ; so don’t you disbelieve me any more.” 

Captain Copp returned to the parlor, and in a minute his 
mother walked in after him. She wore black stockings, fur 
slippers, a petticoat that came down to the calves of her legs ; 
a woollen shawl, and an enormous night-cap. Isaac Thorny- 
croft smothered an inclination to laugh, but Mrs. Copp stood 
witli calm equanimity, regardless of the defects of her costume. 

What’s that about the ghost, Sam?” 

I saw it to-night, mother. It stood near its own grave in 
the churchyard. And I hope you won’t go on at me about 
that mermaid, after this. It had got long bright green hair, 
as I’ve always said, and was combing it out.” 

The ghost had ? ” 

^^Ho, the mermaid. The ghost was Hunter’s. It looked 
just as he’d used to look.” 

Mrs. Copp stood rubbing her nose, and thinking the cap- 
tain’s conversion a very sudden one. 

Is this a joke, Sam ? ” 

A joke ! Why, mother, I tell ye I saw it. Ask Sarah. 
I called out to know what it wanted, and why it came ; but it 
wouldn’t answer me.” 

Well, it’s strange,” observed Mrs. Copp. Sam’s a sim- 
pleton about mermaids, but I’d have backed him as to ghosts. 
But now : you may have observed perhaps, all of you, that 
I’ve nbt said a syllable to ridicule this ghost of poor dead Mr. 
Hunter, and I’ll tell you why. Last June, in Liverpool, a 
friend of mine was sitting up with her father, who w^s ill, 
when her sister’s spirit appeared to her. It was between 
twelve and one at night — twenty minutes to one, in fact, for 
there was a clock in the room, and she had looked at it only 
a minute before ; the candle ” 

Oh, mother, don’t; pray don’t!” implored poor Amy 
Copp, going into a cold perspiration, for she held a firm belief 
in things supernatural. This one ghost is enough for us 
without any more. I shall never like to go up to bed alone 
again.” 

“ The candle gave as good as no light, for the snuff was a 
yard long a’most, with a caulifiower on the top,” continued Mrs. 
Copp, who persisted in telling her tale, supremely indifferent 
toiler daughter-in-law’s fears and her own robes. ^^Emma 
J enkins, that was her name, heard a rustle in the room ; it 


396 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


seemed to come in at the door, which was put open for air, 
flutter across, and stir the bed-curtains. (Don’t you be foolisli, 
Amy!) Naturally, Emma Jenkins looked up, and there she 
saw her sister, who had died a 3^ear before. The figure seemed 
to give just a sigh and vanish. Now,” said Mrs. Copp, 
applying the moral, if that was a ghost, this may be.” 

You always said, you know, mother, that you didn’t 
believe in ghosts.” 

Neither did I, Sain. But Emma Jenkins is not one to be 
taken in by fancy ; as stands to reason, considering that she 
has gone thirteen voyages with her husband, short and long. 
Sea-going people are not liable to see ghosts where there’s no 
ghosts to see ; they have got their wits about them, and keep 
their ej^es open. What are you smiling at, Mr. Thornycroft ? 
Mrs. Jenkins had taken a glass of brandj^-and- water, per- 
haps ? Well, I don’t know; sitting up with the sick is cold 
work, especially when they are too far gone to have anything 
done for ’em. But she always liked rum best.” 

The story over. Captain Copp plunged into a full account of 
the night’s adventures, enlarging on the questions he asked 
with the view of bringing the ghost to book, and what he 
would have done had it only stayed. Sarah gave her version 
of the sight, both in going and coming. Mrs. Copp, forgetting 
her cold, plunged into another story of a man who died at sea 
the first time she sailed with her husband, and the belief of 
the sailors that he haunted the ship all the while it ^ lay in 
Calcutta harbor ; all to the shivering horror of poor Amy 
Copp ; and Isaac Thornycroft, waking up from his reverie by 
fits and starts, sat on until midnight, like a man in a miserable 
dream. 


CHAPTEB XXX. 

IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 

Mary Anne Thornycroft had remained at home in a 
state of mind bordering on distraction. Look where she 
would, there was no comfort. Surely the death of Bobert 


IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 397 

Hunter had been enough, with all its attendant dreadful cir- 
cumstances, without this fresh rumor of his coming again!” 
Like Mrs. Copp, until impressed with her friend Emma Jen- 
kin’s experiences, Miss Thornycroft had never put faith in 
ghosts. She was accustomed to ridicule those who believed in 
the one said to haunt the plateau ; but her scepticism was 
shaken now. 

She had paid little attention to the first reports, for she 
knew”- how prone the ignorant are in general, and Coastdowm 
in particular, to spread supernatural tales. But these reports 
grew and magnified. Bobert Hunter was dead and buried : 
how then reconcile that fact wdth this mysterious appearance 
said to haunt the churchyard ? Her mind became shaken ; 
and when, on the previous night, her brother Isaac imparted 
to her the fact that he had seen it wdth his own sensible, dis- 
passionate eyes, a sickening conviction fiashed over her that it 
w^as indeed Bobert Hunter’s spirit. And now, to confirm it, 
came the testimony of the matter-of-fact Sarah. Possiblj^, but 
for the sad manner in which her nerves had been shaken, this 
new view might not have been taken up. 

What does it w^ant?” she asked herself, sitting there alone 
in the gloomy parlor : and certain words just spoken by Sarah 
recurred to her, as if in answer. ^Mt may want to denounce 
its murderer.” Stronger even than the grief and regret she 
felt at his untimely fate at the abrupt termination of her un- 
happy love, w^as the lively dread of discover}^, for Bichard’s 
sake. That must be guarded against, if it w-ere possible ; for 
what might it not bring in its train ? The betrayal of the 
illicit practices the Bed Court Farm had lived by ; the dis- 
honor of her father and his house ; perhaps the trial — condem- 
nation — execution of Bichard. 

Sick, trembling, half mad wdth these reflections, pacing the 
room in agony, was she, when Bichard entered. Had he seen 
the ghost ? He looked as if he had. His damp hair hung 
abhut in a black mass, and his face and lips were as ghastly as 
Hunter’s. His sister gazed at him with surprise ; the always 
self-possessed Bichard 1 

‘‘ Have 3 mu come from the village ? ” she asked. 

^^From that way.” 

Did you happen to turn to the churchyard ? ” 

Yes,” was the laconic reply. 

You know what they say : that his spirit appears there.” 


398 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


I have seen it/’ was Richard’s unexpected answer. 

Miss Thornycroft started. Oh, Ricliard ! When ?” 

^^Now. I went to look, and I saw it. There’s no mistake 
about its being Hunter, or some fool made up to personate 
him.” 

It has taken away your color, Richard.” 

Richard Thornj^croft did not reply. He sat with his elbow 
on his knee, and his chin resting on his hand, looking into the 
fire. The once brave man, brave to recklessness, had been 
scared for the first time in his mortal life. The crime lying 
heavily on his soul had made a coward of him. 

He said nothing of the details, but they must be supplied. 
Shortly after Isaac had quitted Tomlett’s Richard also left, in- 
tending to go straight home. As he struck across to the di- 
rect road — not the one by the plateau — a thought came to him 
to take a look at the churchyard ; and he turned to it. 

There was Robert Hunter. As Richard’s footsteps sounded 
on the night air, nearing the churchyard, the head and shoul- 
ders of the haunting spirit appeared, raising themselves behind 
old Marley’s high tombstone. Richard stood still. There 
was no mistake,” as he observed to his sister, ‘Hhat it was 
Hunter.” And the eyes of the two were strained, the one on 
the other. Suddenly the ghost came into full view and ad- 
vanced, and Richard Thornycroft turned and fled. An arrant 
coward he at that moment, alone with the ghost and his aw- 
ful conscience. 

Whether the apparition would have pursued him ; whether 
Richard would have gathered bravery enough to turn and face 
it, could never be known. The doctor’s boy, having been to 
the h^ath with old Connaught’s ph^^^sic, ran past shouting and 
singing the whistling aloud to keep his courage up,” as 
Bloomfield (is it not ?) so subtly says, was not enough now for 
those who had to pass the churchyard at Coastdown. The 
ghost vanished, and Richard strode on to the Red Court Barm. 

But he did not tell of all this. Mary Anne, who had bf^eii 
bending her head on the arm of the sofa, suddenly rose, 
resolution in her face and in her low, firm tone. 

Richard, if you accompany me for protection, I will go 
and see this spirit. I will ask what it wants. Let us go.” 

You ! ” he somewhat contemptuously exclaimed. 

I will steel my nerves and heart to it. I have been striv- 
ing to do so for the last half hour. Better for me to hold 


IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 399 

communion with it than any one else, save you. You know 
wh}", Ricliard.’^ 

‘^Tush!^^ he exclaimed. ^‘Do nothing. You’d faint by 
the- way.” 

It is necessary for the honor and safety of — of — this 
house/’ she urged, not caring to speak more pointedly, that 
no stranger should hear what it wants. I will go now. If I 
wait until to-morrow my courage may fail. I go, Richard, 
whether with you or alone. You are not afraid? ” 

For answer, Richard rose, and they left the room. In 
passing through the hall, Mary Anne threw on her woollen 
shawl and garden-bonnet, just as she had thrown then^ on the 
night of Hunter’s murder ; and the}^- started. 

Hot a word was spoken by either until they reached the 
corner of the churchyard. The high, thickset hedge, facing 
them as they advanced, prevented their seeing into it, but they 
would soon come in front, where the shrubs grew low behind 
the iron railings. Miss Thorny croft stopped. 

You stay here, Richard. I will go on alone.” 

^^Ho,” he began, but she peremptorily interrupted him. 

I will have it so. If I am to go on with this, I will be 
alone. You can keep me within sight.” And Richard 
acquiesced, despising himself for his cowardice, but unable to 
overcome it. He could not — no, he could not face the man 
whose life he had taken.” 

Mary Anne Thorny croft opened the gate and went in. In 
his place (he seemed to have specially appropriated to himself) 
behind old Marley’s tomb, stood Robert Hunter. Hoio she 
contrived to advance — contrived to face him and keep her 
senses, Mary Anne Thornycroft could never afterwards under- 
stand. 

Is it of any use to go on mystifying you, my reader ? 
Perhaps from the first you have suspected the truth. Any 
wa^q it may be better to solve the secret, for time is growing 
limited, as it was solved that night to Mary Anne and Richard 
Thornycroft. The ghost, prowling about still, was looking out 
for Richard, its sole object all along; but it was Robert 
Hunter himself and not his ghost. For Robert Hunter was 
not dead. 

He had been in London all the while they mourned him so, 
as much alive as any of his mourners, quite unconscious that 
he was looked upon as murdered, and that the county coroner 


400 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


had held an inquest on his body. A week since, he had come 
down from London to Coastdown, had come in secret, not 
caring to show himself in the neighborhood, and not daring to 
show himself openly to the Thornycrofts. He wanted to 
obtain an interview^ with Mary Anne ; but to want it was a 
great deal easier than to get it, in consequence of that extrav- 
agant and hasty oath imposed upon him by Lichard. Accord- 
ing to its terms, he must not write to any one of the inmates 
of the Led Court Farm ; he must not enter it ; he must not 
show himself at Coastdown ; and he could only hit upon the 
plan of coming down encachette, keeping himself close by 
day, and watching for Lichard at night. Not a very brilliant 
scheme, but he could think of no better ; and, singular ‘per- 
haps to say, there was no bar to his speaking to Lichard if he 
met him ; if the spirit of tho oath provided against that, the 
letter did not ; and Robert Hunter’s business was urgent. So 
he came dowm to Jutpoint, walked over at night, and took up 
his quarters in a lonely hut that he knew of behind the 
churchyard, inhabited by a superannuated fisherman, old 
Parkes. The aged fisherman, of dim sight and failing 
memory, did not know his guest ; he was easily bribed not to 
tell of his sojourn ; and the rumors of the ghost had not pen- 
etrated to him. In that hut Hunter lay by dajq and watched 
from the churchyard by night, as being a likely spot to see 
Richard, who used often to pass and repass it on his way to 
and from the heath, and an ^^?^likely one to be seen and recog- 
nized by the public. With that convenient tomb of old Mar- 
ley’s to shelter behind whenever footsteps approached, he did 
not fear. Unfortunately, it was necessary that he should look 
out to see whether the footsteps were not Richard’s ; and this 
looking out had brought about all the terror. His retreating 
place, when people had intruded into the churchyard, Isaac for 
one, was under a shelving gravestone at the back of the 
church, where none would think of looking^ And there he 
had been on the watch, never dreaming that he was being 
mistaken for his own ghost, for he knew nothing of his sup- 
posed murder. 

In little more than half-a-dozen sentences this was revealed 
to Mary Anne Thornycroft. It was the last night that he 
could stay: and he had resolved, in the fear of having to go 
back to London with his errand unexecuted, to accost any one 
of the Thornycroft family that might approach him, although 


IN THE CHURCHYARD TORCH. 


401 


by so doing the oath was infringed. As their voices were 
borne on the night air to the ear of E/ichard, sufficient evi- 
dence that Hunter w^as a living man, a load fell from his 
heart. In the first blissful throb of the discovery, the thought 
that surged through him, turning darkness into light, was. 

If he is alive, I am no murderer.’’ He ran forward, gained 
the spot where they stood, grasped Hunter’s hand and well- 
nigh embraced him. He, the cold, stern, undemonstrative 
Eichard Thornycroft ! he, with all his dislike of Hunter ! 

Do you consider well what that joy must be — relief from 
the supposed committed crime of murder? The awful night- 
mare that has been weighing us down : the sin that has been 
eating away our heartstrings ! Some of us may have faintly 
experienced this in a vision during sleep. 

I do not understand it. Hunter,” whispered Eichard, his 
words taking a sobbing sound as they burst from his heaving 
breast in the intensitj^ of his emotion. It is like awaking 
from some hideous dream. If I shot you down, how is it 
that you are here ? ” 

You never shot me down. Old Parkes has been driving 
at some obscure tale about young Hunter being shot from the 
heights ; but I treated it as a childish old man’s fancies. 
Mary Anne, too, is wearing mourning for me, she says, though 
ostensibly put on for Lady Ellis, and came here to have speech 
of my ghost. I thought ghosts had gone out with the 
eighteenth century.” 

All three felt bewildered ; idea after idea crowding on their 
minds : not one of them as yet clear or tangible. Mary Anne 
could not so soon overcome the shivering sensation that had 
been upon her, and caught hold of her brother’s arm for sup- 
port. There was much of explanation to be had yet. 

Let us go and sit down in the church porch,” she said ; 

we shall be quiet there.” 

They walked round the narrow path towards it. It was on 
the side of the church facing the Eed Court. The brother 
and sister placed themselves on one bench : Hunter opposite. 
The moonlight streamed upon them, but they were in no 
danger there of being observed by any chance passer-by ; for 
the hedge skirting the ground on that side was high and thick. 

That night,” began Eichard, after you had gone away, 
what brought you back again ? ” 

Back where ? ” asked Hunter. 

25 


402 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


‘^Back on the plateau. Watching the fellows from the 
boats.^^ 

I was not there. I did not come hack.” 

The assertion sounded like a false one in the teeth of recol- 
lection. Mary Anne broke the silence, her low tone rather an 
impatient one. 

I saiv you there, Kohert — I and Anna Chester. We were 
-coming up to speak to you, and got as far as the Bound 
Tower ” 

What was worse, I saw you,” hoarsely broke in Bi chard. 
After wdiat had passed between us, and your solemn oath to 
me, I felt shocked at your want of faith. I was maddened by 
your bad feeling, jmur obstinate determination to spy upon 
and betraj^ us ; and I stood by that same Bound Tower and 
shot you down.” 

I don’t know what you are talking of,” returned Bobert 
Hunter. tell you I never came back; never for one 

moment. I got to Jutpoint by half-past ten or a quarter to 
eleven, so you may judge that I stepped out well.” 

Did C^^ril go there with you ? ” 

Cyril 1 Of course not. He left me soon after we passed 
the village. He only came as far as the wherry. I have 
been looking for Cyril while dodging about in this churchyard. 
I’d rather have seen him than you. He would not have been 
violent, you know, and would have carried you my message.” 

^^We have never seen Cyril since that night,” said Miss 
Thornycroft. 

Hot seen Cyril ! ” echoed Hunter. Where is he ? ” 
^^But we are not uneasy about him,” said Bichard, dropping 
his voice. At least, I am not. We expect he went off in 
the boats with the smugglers when they rowed back to the 
ship that night after the cargo was run. Indeed, we feel 
positive of it. My father once did the same, to the terror of 
my mother. I believe she had him advertised. Cyril is 
taking a tolerably long spell on the French coast ; but I think 
I can account for that. He will come home now.” 

Still you have not explained,” resumed Hunter. What 
gave rise to this report that I was shot down? ” 

Beport ! ” cried Bichard, vehemently, his new-found satis- 
faction beginning to fade, as sober recollection returned to him. 
^‘Somebody was shot, if you were not. We had the coroner’s 
inquest on him, and he lies buried in this churchj^ard as 
Bobert Hunter.” 


IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 403 

^^But the features could not have been mine/’ debated 
Hunter. 

“ The face was not recognisable ; but the head and hair 
were yours, and the dress was yours — a black dinner suit ; 

and By the way,” broke off Bichard, what is this 

mystery ? This coat, which you appear now to have on, is at 
this moment in the stables at the Mermaid, and has been 
ever since the inquest.” 

Does the reader notice that one word of Bichard Thorny- 
croft’s — “Appear?” A^opear to have on! Was he still 
doubting whether the man before him could be real? 

“ Oh, this is Dr. Macpherson’s,” said Hunter, with a brief 
laugh. “ They were fellow coats, you know, Mary Anne. 
You did not send me my own — at least, I never received it ; 
and one cold day, when I happened to be there, the professor 
surreptitiously handed me his out of a lumber closet, glad to 
get rid of it, hoping madame would think it was stolen. She 
could not forget the grievance of his having bought them. 
Why did not mine come with the portmanteau ? ” 

More amazement, more puzzle, and Bichard further at sea 
than ever. 

“ When you left that night, you had your coat with you, 
Hunter. I saw you put it on.” 

“ But I found it an encumbrance. I had taken more wine 
than usual. I had had other things to make me hot, and I 
did not relish the prospect of carrying it, whether on or off, 
for five or six miles. So I took it off when we got to the 
wherry, and begged Cyril to carry it back with him, and send 
it with the portmanteau the following morning.” 

A pause of thought ; it seemed they were trying to realize 
the sense of the words. Suddenly Mary Anne started, 
gasped, and laid her face down on her brother’s shoulder, with 
a sharp, low moan of pain. He leaned forward and stared at 
Hunter, a pitiable expression of dread on his countenance, as 
the moonlight fell on his ghastly face and strained-back lips. 

“ Cyril said he was glad of it, and put it on, for he had come 
out without one, and felt cold,” continued Hunter, carelessly. 
“He has not been exposed to all weathers, as I have. It 
fitted him capitall}^” 

A cry, shrill and wild as that which had broken from the 
dying man in his fall, now broke from Bichard Thorny croft. 

“Stop 1” he shouted, in the desperation of anguish ; “don’t 
you see ? ” 


404 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


See what? ” demanded the astonished Hunter. 

That I have murdered my brother ! ” 

Alas ! alas ! As they sat gazing at each other with terror- 
stricken faces, you might have heard their hearts beat. Poor 
Pichard Thornycroft ! Had any awakening to horror been 
like unto his ! 

Murdered your brother ? slowly repeated Hunter. 

It was too true. The unfortunate Cyril Thornycroft, array- 
ed in Hunter’s coat, had been mistaken by them for him in 
the starlight, and Eichard had shot him dead. In returning 
home after parting with Hunter at the wherry, there could be 
no doubt that he had gone straight to the heights to see 
whether the work which had been planned for that night with 
the smugglers was being carried on, or whether the discovery 
made by Hunter had checked it. It was the coat, the misera- 
ble coat, that had deceived them. And there was the general 
resemblance they bore to each other, as previously mentioned. 
In height, in figure, in hah, they might have been taken for 
one another, and had been, even in the da3dight, during Hun- 
ter’s stay at Coastdown. But it was not all this that had led 
to the dreadful error — it was the fatal and conspicuous coat. 

Everything had contributed to the delusion, before life and 
after death. The face might have been anybodj^’s for all the 
signs of recognition left in it. They wore, and only the}^, 
each a black dress dinner-suit, and Cyril, in his forgetfulness, 
had put away his purse and watch. His money — he generally 
carried it so — was loose in his pocket : how were they to 
know that the same custom was not followed by Hunter ? 
The white pocket-handkerchief happened to bear no mark, 
and his linen was not disturbed. Nothing was taken off him 
but his upper clothes, the coat and the above-said dinner-suit. 
It was an exceptional death, you see, not a pleasant one to 
handle, and they just put a shroud over the under clothes, and 
so buried him. But for that would have been seen on the 
shirt the full mark — C^^ril Thornycroft.” 

Who shall attempt to describe the silence of horror that fell 
on the church porch after the revelation? Eichard quitted 
his seat and stood upright, looking out, as it seemed ; and his 
sister’s head then sought a leaning-place against the cold 
trellis-work. 

How was it you never wrote to me ? ” at length asked 
Eobert Hunter, in a low voice. Had you done so, this 
mystery would have been cleared up.” 


IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 


405 


Wrote to you?^^ wailed Richard. ‘^Do you forget we 
thought you were here ? stamping his foot on the sod of the 
churchyard. 

I can hardly understand it yet/^ mused Robert Hunter. 

Richard Thornycroft turned and touched his sister. “Let 
us go home, Mary Anne. We have heard enough.’^ 

Without a word of dissent or approval, she rose and put her 
arm within Richard’s ; her face white and rigid as it had been 
at the coroner’s inquest. Hunter spoke then. 

“ But, Mary Anne — what I wanted to say to you — I have 
not yet said a word of it.” 

“ I cannot talk to-night,” she shuddered. “ I cannot — I 
cannot.” 

“ Then — I suppose — I must stay another day,” he rejoined, 
wondering privately what would be said and thought of him 
in London. “ May I come to the Red Court to-morrow ? ” 

“If you will,” answered Richard. “Ho necessity for con- 
cealment now. I absolve you from your oath.” 

But Mary Anne saw further than either of them ; saw that 
it would not do. Richard walked forward, hut she remained, 
and touched Mr. Hunter on the arm. 

“Ho, Robert, it must not he. You must still he in this 
neighborhood — for a time at any rate — as dead and buried.” 

“Why? Far better to let them know I have not been 
murdered : and set their suspicions at rest.” 

“That you have not, but that another has,” she returned, 
resentfully. “ Would you have them rake up the matter, and 
hold a second inquest, and so set them upon my unfortunate 
brother Richard? His punishment, as it is, wdll be suffi- 
ciently dreadful and lasting.” 

“ Do not speak to me in that tone of reproach,” was the 
pained rejoinder. “You maybe sure that I deeply sympa- 
thize and grieve with you all. I will continue to conceal my- 
self : but how shall I see ^mu ? One more day, and business 
wdll enforce my return to London.” 

“ I will see you here, in this place, to-morrow night.” 

“ At what hour ? ” 

“ As soon as dusk comes on. Say seven.” 

“ You will not fail, Mary Anne ? ” 

“Fail!” she repeated, vehemently. Then, in a quieter 
tone, as she would have walked away, “ Ho 5 I will be sure to 
come.” 


406 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Robert Hunter grasped her hand, as if to draw her towards 
him for a fond embrace, hut Miss Thornycroft wrenched her 
hand away with a half cr}’^, and went on to join her brother. 

Good night, dear Robert,’’ she presently called out, in a 
gentle voice, as if to atone for her abrupt movement : hut oh ! 
what a mine of anguish that voice betrayed ! 

In the midst of the same silence that they had come, they 
went hack again, walking side by side in the road, hut not 
touching each other. Ah ! what anguish it was that lay on 
both of them ! We never know ; in great afdiction we are so 
apt to think that we can hear nothing worse, and live. It had 
seemed to Richard Thornycroft and his sister, wdien they went 
down to the churchyard, that no heavier "weight of misery 
could he theirs than that lying on them ; it seemed now in 
going back, as if it had been light, compared with this. 

“ Richard,” she whispered, in her great pit}^, as they passed 
through the entrance gates of the Red Court Rarm, ‘Gie is 
better off; he was fit to go. You know it must he so. Cjudl 
is in heaven with God ; it seems now as if he had been living 
on for it.” 

Richard hardly heard the words. Ho was thinking his 
own thoughts. The death must have been a painless one.’ 

She was true to her promise. The following evening, when 
dark fell and before the moon was up, Robert Hunter and 
Miss Thornycroft sat once more in the church porch. The 
night was very cold, sharp, raw ; but from a feeling of consid- 
erate delicacy, which she understood and mentally thanked 
him for, he was without a great-coat. He rightly judged that 
the only one he had with him could in her eyes be nothing but 
an object of horror. 

What a day that had been at the Red Court ! Mr. Thorny- 
croft had sat on the magisterial bench at Jutpoint, trying petty 
offenders, unconscious that there was a greater offender at his 
own house demanding punishment. Richard Thornycroft felt 
inclined to proclaim the truth and deliver himself up to 
justice. The remorse which had taken possession of him was 
greater than he knew how to bear ; and it seemed that to 
expiate his offence at the criminal bar of his country, w^ould 
be more tolerable than to let it thus prey upon him in silence, 
eating away his heart and his life. Consideration for his 
father and sister, for their honorable reputation, alone withheld 


IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 


407 


liim. He and Cyril had been fond brothers. Cyril of delicate 
health and gentle manners, had been, as it were, the pet of 
the robust justice and his robust elder sons. The home, so 
far as E-ichard was concerned, must be broken up : he would 
go abroad, the farther distant the better. But for his sister, he 
had started that day. Something of this she told Mr. Hun- 
ter, in an outburst of her great suffering. 

Oh, Eobert ! even allowing that he shall escape, what a 
secret it will be for me and my brother Isaac to carry through 
life ! 

Time will soften it to you. You are both innocent.’^ 

Time will never soften it to me. My dear brother Cyril ! 
— so loving to us all, so good! 

Her hands were before her face, as if she would conceal its 
tribulation from the dark night. Eobert Hunter, who had 
been standing, drew her hands within his, sat down beside her 
on tlie narrow bench, and kept them there. 

Time is wearing on, Mary Anne, and I must be at Jut- 
point to-night. May I saj^ what I came down from town to 
sny ? Though it pains me to enter upon it now you are in 
this grief.^^ 

What is it, Eobert ? 

You have not forgotten that there was a probability of 
my going abroad? Well, the arrangements are now con- 
cluded, and I start in the course of a few days. I did not 
think of being off before the summer, but it has been settled 
differently.’^ 

Yes. Well ? ” 

This alters my position altogether in a pecuniary point of 
view, and I shall now rest at ease, the future assured. The 
climate is excellent ; the residence out all that can be wished 
for. In a week from this I ought to take my departure.” 

“Yet,” she repeated, in the same tone of apathy as before. 
“What else? Make haste, Eobert — I must begone; I am 
beginning to shiver. I have these shivering fits often now.” 

“ I want you to go with me, my love,” he whispered, in an 
accent of deep tenderness. “ I came down to urge it ; but 
now til at this unfortunate affair has been made known to me, 
I would doubly urge it. As mj^ wife, you will forget ” 

“Be quiet, Eobert!” she impetuously interrupted, “you 
cannot know what you are saying.” 

“ Yes, I do ; I wish you to understand. I may be away for 
five years.” 


408 


THE EED COURT FARM. 


“ So much the better. You and I, of all people in the 
world, must live apart. Was this what you had to say ? 

I thought you loved me,” he rejoined, quite petrified at 
her words. 

I did love you ; I do love you ; if to avow it will do any 
good now. But this dreadful sorrow has placed a barrier be- 
tween us.” 

There ensued a bitter pause. Eubert Hunter was smarting 
with a sense of injustice. 

Mary Anne ! Surely you are not laying on me the blame 
of that terrible calamity ! ” 

Listen, Eobert,” she returned. I am not so unjust as to 
blame you for the actual calamity, but I cannot forget that you 
and I have been the cause of it.” 

“ You ! ” 

Yes, I. When my father heard that I had invited you 
down, he came to me, and forbid me to let you come. I see 
now why. They did not want strangers in his liouse, who 
might see more than was expedient. He commanded me to 
write and stop you. I disobeyed ; I thought papa spoke but 
in compliance with a whim of Eichard’s ; and I would not 
write. Had I obeyed him, all this would have been spared. 
Again, when you and I told what the supervisor said, that 
there were smugglers abroad, my father ordered us, you 
especially, not to interfere. Had you observed his wishes to 
the letter, Cyril- would have been alive now. These reflections 
•haunt me continually ; they will be mine for ever. No, 
Eobert, you and I must live apart. If I were to marry j^ou, I 
should expect Cj-ril to rise reproachfully before me on our 
wedding-day.” 

“ Oh, Mary Anne ! Believe me you see matters in a false 
light. If ” 

I will not discuss it,” she peremptorily interrupted, it 
would be of no avail, and I shudder while I speak. Spare me 
argument.” 

I think that you are forgetting that I have a stake in the 
matter as well as yourself,” he quietly said, his tone proving 
how great the pain was. ^^Do you not know what, deprived 
of you, my future life will be ? At least, I have a right to say 
a few words.” 

Well — ^yes, that’s true. I suppose I did forget, Eobert.” 

Forgive me then for reminding you that the sole and im- 


IN THE CHURCHYARD PORCH. 


409 


mediate cause of Cyrirs death, is Richard, I did nothing 
whatever to help it on ; my conscience is clear ; the most pre- 
judiced man could not charge me with it. And you ? It is 
certainly a pity — I am speaking plainly — that you disobeyed 
Mr. Thornycroft in allowing me to come to the E-ed Court ; it 
was very wrong ; but still you did it not with any ill inten- 
tion, and certainly do not merit the punishment of being con- 
demned to live a lonely life.^^ 

But Eichard is my brother. See what it has brought on 
himP 

“What he has brought upon himself,’^ corrected Mr. 
Hunter. “ I do not see that his being your brother throws, or 
should be allowed to throw any bar upon your marriage with 
me. You would not say so had he been a stranger.^^ 

“Where is the use of arguing? ” she broke in. “I cannot 
bear it ; I will not hear it. All is at an end between us. Do 
you forgive me, Eobert, if I cause you pain? Nothing in the 
world, or out of it, shall ever induce me to become your wife.’^ 

“Is this your fixed determination ? 

“Fixed and unalterable. Fixed as those stars above us. 
Fixed as CyriPs grave.’’ 

“ Then it only remains for me to return the way I came,” 
he gloomily said. “ And the sooner I start the better.” 

They stood up ; looking for a moment each into the other’s 
face. There was no relenting in hers. 

“Fare you well, Mary Anne.” 

She put her hand into his, and, overcome by the dead 
anguish at her heart, burst into tears. He drew her to his 
breast. None can know what that anguish was to her, even 
of the parting. He held her to him and soothed her sobs, 
now with a loving look, now with a gentle action ; and then 
he broke into words of passionate entreaty, that she would 
retract her cruel determination, and suffer him to speak to her 
father. But he little knew Mary Anne Thornycroft if he 
thought that she would yield. 

“ Say no more ; it is quite useless. Oh, Bobert, don’t you 
see it is as bitter for me as for you ? ” 

“ No ; or you would not inflict it.” 

“ Strive to forget me, Eobert,” she murmured. “We have 
been very dear to each other, but you must find some one else 
now. Perhaps we may meet in after life — when you are a 
happy man with wife and children ! ” 


410 


THE RET) COURT FARM. 


He went witli her to the churchyard gates, and watched her 
as she turned to her home. And so they parted. Hobert 
Hunter retraced his steps up the churchj^ard, and from behind 
a gravestone, where he had laid them out of sight, took up his 
little black travelling-bag, and the rolled-up coat, the counter- 
part of which had proved so unlucky a coat for the Hed Court 
rarm. He never intended to put it on again — at least in the 
neighborhood of Coastdown. Then he set off to walk to J ut- 
point, avoiding the road by means of a by-path, as he had set 
off to walk that guilty night some weeks before. 

The night had clouded over, the stars disappeared, the moon 
was not seen. Drops of rain began to fall, threatening a 
heavy shower. On it came, thicker and faster ; wetter and 
wetter got he j but it may be questioned whether he gave to 
it one single thought. 

His reflections were buried quite as much in the past as in 
the present. He murmured to himself the word Retribu- 
tion.’’ He asked how he could ever have dreamt of indulg- 
ing a prospect of happiness ; he almost laughed at the utter 
mockery of the hope. As he had blighted his wife’s life, so 
had Mary Anne Thorn ycroft, his late and only love, now 
blighted his. She — poor Clara — had died of the pain ; he, of 
sterner stuff, must carry it along with him. Amid his daj^s of 
labor, through his nights of perhaps broken rest, it would lie 
upon him — a well-earned recompense ! Ho murmur came 
forth from his heart or lips ; he simply bowed his head in 
acknowledgment of the justice. God was ever true. And 
Robert Hunter lifted his hat in the pouring rain, and raised 
his eyes to heaven in sad thankfulness that the pain his sin 
had caused was at length made clear to him. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT. 

But there’s something yet to tell of the evening. It was 
getting towards dusk when Isaac Thornycroft went his way to 
Captain Copp’s, intending boldly to ask Miss Chester to take 


IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT. 411 

a walk with him, should there be no chance of getting a 
minute with her alone at home. 

The state in which he w^as living, touching his wife’s 
estrangement (not their separation, that was a present 
necessity), was getting unbearable ; and Isaac, who had 
hitherto shunned an explanation, came to the rather sudden 
resolution of seeking it. Although his brother had shot 
E/obert Hunter, it could not be said to be a just reason for 
Anna’s resenting it upon him, Hot a syllable did Isaac yet 
know of the discovery that had taken place, or that Cyril was 
the one lying in the churchj^ard. 

In the free and simple community of Coastdown, doors were 
not kept closed, and people entered at will. Eather, then, to 
Isaac’s surprise, as he turned the handle of Captain Copp’s, 
he found it was fastened, so that he could not enter. At the 
same moment his eyes met his wife’s, who had come to the 
window to reconnoitre. There was no help for it, and she had 
to go and let him in. 

At home alone, Anna ! Where are they all ? Where’s 
Sarah ? ” 

Anna explained : bare facts only, however, not motives. It 
appeared that the gallant captain, considerably lowered in his 
own estimation by the events of the past night, and especially 
that he should be so in the sight of his “ womenkind,” pro- 
posed a little jaunt that day to Jutpoint by way of diverting 
their thoughts, and perhaps his own, from the ghost and its 
reminiscences. His mother — recovered from her incipient 
cold — she was too strong-minded a woman for diseases to seize 
upon heartily — agreed readily, as did his wife. Hot so Anna. 
She pleaded illness and begged to be left at home. 'It was 
indeed no false plea, for her miserable state of mind was 
beginning to tell upon her. They had been expected home in 
time for tea, and had not come. Anna supposed they had 
contrived to miss the omnibus, which was in tact tlie case, and 
could not now return until late. How Mrs. Sam Copp would 
be brought by the churchyard was a thing easier wondered at 
than told. As to Sarah,' she had but now stepped out on 
some necessaiy errands to the village. 

In the satisfaction of finding the field undisturbed for the 
explanation he .wished entered on, Isaac said nothing about 
his wife being left in the house alone, which he by no means 
approved of. It was not dark yet, only dusk : but Anna said 
something about getting lights. 


412 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


'Not jet/’ said Isaac. I want to talk to you : there’s 
plenty of light for that.” 

She sat down on the sofa; trembling, frightened, sick. 
If her husband was the slayer of Eobert Hunter — as she 
believed him to be — it was not agreeable to be in the solitary 
house with him ; it was equally disagreeable to have to tell 
him to go out of it. Ah, but for that terrible belief, what a 
happy moment this snatch of intercourse might have been to 
them! this sole first chance for weeks and weeks of being 
alone, when they might speak together of future plans with a 
half-hour’s freedom. 

She took her seat on the sofa, scarcely conscious what she 
did in her sick perplexity. Isaac sat down by her, put his 
arm round her waist, and would have kissed her. But she 
drew to the other end of the large sofa with a gesture of 
evident avoidance, and burst into tears. So he got up and 
stood before her. 

^^Anna, this must end, one way or the other; it is what I 
came here to-night say. The separated condition in which 
we first lived after our return was bad enough, but that was 
pleasant compared to what it afterwards became. It is some 
weeks now since you have allowed me barely to shake you by 
the hand; never if you could avoid it. Things cannot go on 
so.” 

She made no reply. Only sat there trembling and crying, 
her hands before her face. 

^^What have I done to you? Come, Anna, I must have an 
answer. What have I done to you ? ” 

She spoke at last, looking up. In her habit of implicit obe- 
dience, there was no help for it ; there could be none when the 
order came from him. 

Nothing to me.” 

To whom, then ? What is it ? ” 

Nothing,” was all she repeated. 

“Nothing ! Do you repent having married me ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

The answer seemed to pain him. He bent his handsome 
face a little towards her, pushing back impatiently his golden 
hair, as if the fair bright brow needed coolness. 

“ I thought you loved me, Anna ? ” 

“And you know I did. Oh, that is it I The misery would 
be greater if I loved you less.” 


/ 


IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT. 413 

Then whj^ do you shun me ? 

Is there not a cause why I should ? ’’ she asked in a low 
tone, after a long pause. 

I think not. Will you tell me what the cause may he ? 

She glanced up at him, she looked down, she smoothed un- 
consciously the silk apron on which her nervous hands rested, 
hut she could not answer. Isaac saw it, and, bending nearer 
to her, he spoke in a whisper. 

Is it connected with that unhappy night — with what took 
place on the plateau ? 

I think you must have known all along that it is.” 

^^And you consider it a sufficient reason for shunning me?” 

Yes, do not you f ” 

Certainly not.” 

Great though her misery was, passionately though she loved 
him still, the cool assertion angered her. It gave her a courage 
to speak that nothing else could have given. 

‘‘ It was a dark crime ; the worst crime that the world can 
know. Does it not lie on your conscience ? ” 

Ho ; I could not hinder it.” 

Oh, Isaac ! Had it been anything else ; anything hut 
murder, I could have borne it. How you can hear it, and 
live, I cannot understand.” 

Why should I make another’s sin mine ? Ho one can 
deplore it as I do ; but it is not my place to answer for it. I 
do not understand you, Anna.” 

She did not understand. What did his words mean ? 

‘‘ Did you not kill Hobert Hunter ? ” 

‘^/kill him! You axe dreaming, Anna ! I was not near 
the spot.” 

Isaac ! Isaac ? ” 

“ Child ! have you been fearing that ? ” 

‘^For nothing else, for nothing else could I have shunned 
you. Oh, Isaac ! my dear husband, how could the mistake 
arise ? ” 

I know not. A mistake it was ; I affirm it to you before 
God. I was not on the plateau at all that night.” 

He opened his arms, gravely smiling, and she passed into 
them with a great cry. Trembling, moaning, sobbing ; Isaac 
thought she would have fainted. Placing her by his side on 
the sofa, he kept still, listening to what she had to say. 

As I looked out of the Pound Tower in the starlight, I 


414 


THE RED CODRT FARM. 


caught a momentary glimpse of — as I thought — you, and I 
saw the hand that held the pistol take aim and fire. I 
thought it was you, and I fiiinted. I have thought it ever 
since. Mary Anne, in a word or two that we spoke together, 
seemed to confirm it.’* 

Mary Anne knew it was not I. It is not in my nature to 
draw a pistol on any man. Surely, Anna, you might have 
trusted me better ! ” 

“ Oh, what a relief! ” she murmured, “ what a relief ! ” then, 
as a sudden thought seemed to strike her, she turned her face 
to his and spoke, her voice hushed. 

It must have been Richard. You are alike in figure.” 

Upon that point we had better be silent,” he answered, in 
quite a solemn tone. ‘^It is a tiling that we are not called 
upon to inquire into ; let us avoid it. I am innocent : will not 
that suffice ? ” 

It will more than suffice for me,” she answered. Since 
that night I have been most wretched.” 

You need not have feared me in any way, Anna,” was the 
reply of Isaac Thornycroft. Were it possible that my hand 
could become stained with the blood of a fellow-creature, I 
should hasten to separate from you quicker than you could 
from me. Whatever else such an unhappy man may covet, 
let him keep clear of wife and children.” 

« Forgive me, Isaac I Forgive me ! ” 

I have not been exempt from the follies of jmung men, 
and I related to you the greater portion of my share of them, 
after we married,” he whispered. But of dark crime I am 
innocent — as innocent as you are.” 

Oh, Isaac ! my husband, Isaac I ” 

He bent his face on hers, and she lay there quietly, her 
head nestling in his bosom. It seemed to her like a dream of 
heaven after the past ; a very paradise. 

You will forgive me, won’t you ? ” she softly breathed. 

My darling ! ” 

But paradise cannot last for ever, as you all know ; and one 
of them at any rate found himself very far on this side it ere 
the night was much older. As Sarah let herself into the 
house with her back-door key, Isaac quitted it by the front, 
and bent his steps across the heath. 

In passing the churchyard, he stood and looked well into it. 
But there was no sign of the ghost, and Isaac went on again. 


IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT. 415 

How little did he suspect that at that very selfsame moment 
the ghost was seated round in the church porch, in deep con- 
versation with his sister ! Having an errand in the village, 
he struck across to it; and on his final return home a little 
later, he was astonished to overtake his sister at the entrance 
gates of the Red Court Farm, her forehead pressed upon the 
ironwork, and she sobbing as if her heart would break. 

Mary Anne ! what is the matter ? What brings you 
here?^^ 

“ Come with me,” she briefly said. ^^If I do not tell some 
one, I shall die.” 

Walking swiftly to one of the benches on the lawn, she sat 
down on it, utterly indifferent to the rain that was beginning 
to fall. Isaac followed her wonderingly. Poor thing ! the 
whole of the previous day and night she had really almost felt 
as if she should die — die from the weight of the fearful secret, 
and the want of some one to confide in. Richard w^as the only 
one who shared it, and she w^as debarred by pity from talking 
to him. 

There, wfith the fatal plateau in front of him, and the rain 
coming down on their devoted heads, Isaac Thornycroft learnt 
the wdiole — learnt to his dismay, his grief, his horror, that the 
victim had been his much-loved brother Cyril ; and that 
Robert Hunter w^as still in life. 

He took his hat off, and wuped his brow ; and then held his 
hat before his face, after the fashion of men going into church 
— held it for some minutes. Mary Anne in her own deep 
emotion did not notice his. 

Isaac, don’t you pity me ? ” 

I pity us all.” 

‘^And there wfill be the making it known to papa. He 
must be told.” 

A^” 

Richard will leave Coastdown for ever. He could not 
remain in it, he says. I am not competent to advise him, 
Isaac. You must.” 

Richard has never yet taken any advice but his own.” 

Ah ! but he is changed to-day. He has been changed a 
little since that dreadful night. I suppose you have known 
all along that it was Richard who — wRo did it ? ” 

“Not from information: I saw that 3^011 knew; that you 
w^ere in his confidence. Of course I could not help being sure 


416 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


in my own mind that it must have been Eichard. I fancy” — 
he turned and looked full at his sister — “ that Miss Chester 
thought it was I.” 

Yes, I know she did,” was the assured answer. ^^It was 
better to let her think so. Safer for Eichard, better for you.” 

Why better for me ? ” 

Because — it is not a moment to be reticent, Isaac — Anna 
Chester once appeared too much inclined to like you. That 
would never do, you know.” 

He turned his head away ; a soft remembrance parting his 
lips, a look of passionate love, meant for his absent wife, light- 
ing his eyes. 

You will get wet sitting here, Mary Anne.” 

She arose, and they went indoors. Isaac was passing 
straight through to the less-used rooms when his sister stopped 
him. 

Eooms that would never have been closed to the rest of the 
house, but for the smuggling practices so long carried on by 
the Thornycroft family. In the rooms themselves there was 
absolutely nothing that could have led to betrayal, or any 
reason why they might not have been open to all the house- 
hold : but it was necessary to keep that part of the house 
closed always, except to Mr. Thornj^croft and his sons, lest it 
should have been penetrated to at the few exceptional times 
when the cargo was being run, or the dog-cart laden subse- 
quently with the spoil. When once the cargo was safely 
lodged in the cavern within the rocks, it might remain tliere 
in security to some convenient time for removing it. This 
was always done at night. Eichard and Isaac Thornycroft, 
Tomlett and Hyde, brought up sufficient of the parcels to fill 
the dog-cart, which one of the sons, sometimes both, would 
then drive away with and deposit with Hoplej^, their agent at 
Dartheld, whose business it was to convey the booty to its 
final destination. The next night more would be takefi awa}^, 
and so on. Sometimes so large was the trade done, so swift 
were the operations, that one cargo would not be all sent away 
before another was landed. At another period perhaps three 
months elapsed and no boat came in. With this frequent 
going out by night with the dogcart, no wonder the young 
Tliorny crofts got the credit of being loose in their habits, and 
that the justice encouraged the notion. 

Tl;ie sumptuous dinners at the Eed Court Farm (or suppers, 


IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT. 


417 


according to the convenience and time of year) were kept up 
as a sort of covering to the illicit doings. When the gentle- 
men of the neighborhood, including the superintendent of the 
coastguard, had their legs under the hospitable board, or the 
servants subsequently under theirs in the kitchen, they could 
not be wandering about out of doors, seeing inexpedient 
things. It was not often of late years Mr. Thornycroft aided 
in the run j he left it to Richard and Isaac, and stayed with 
his guests. On the night Lady Ellis saw him he had gone 
out, found there was a sea fog, and came in again j denying it 
afterwards to her (as faithful Hyde had done) lest she should 
next question why he changed his coat and put on leggings. 

The late superintendent, Mr. Dangerfield, had allowed rule 
to get lax altogether, but he had, of course, a certain amount 
of watching kept up. On the occasion of a dinner or supper 
at the Red Court (always given when a cargo was waiting to 
be run), Mr. Dangerfield would contrive to let his men know 
that he was going to it ; as a matter of fact, not a man 
troubled himself to go near the plateau that night; the Mer- 
maid had them instead ; and all too often it happened that 
one of the young Mr. Thornycrofts would go in and stand 
treat. Ho fear of the men^s stirring any more than their 
master. Rut from the fact of the Half-moon beach being 
visible only from the plateau, and for the supernatural tales 
connected with the latter, they had never escaped being seen 
so long as they did. 

I- he ghostly stories — not of Robert Hunter — had done more 
than all to prevent discovery. It could not be said that the 
Thornycrofts raised them in the first place ; they did not ; 
but when they perceived how valuable an adjunct they were 
likely to prove, they took care to keep them up. Report went 
that the late Mrs. Thornycroft had died from the fears induced 
by superstition. It was as well to keep up that belief also ; 
but she had died from nothing of the sort. What she had 
really died of — so to say — was the smuggling. When the 
discovery cajne to her at first, through an accident, of the 
piactices carried on by her husband and sons — as they had 
been by her husband^s brother and his fiither before him — it 
brought a great shock. A timid, right-minded, refined 
woman, the dread of discovery was perpetually upon her after- 
wards ; she lived in a state of inward fear night and day ; 
and this most probably induced the disorder of which she died 
26 


418 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


— a weakness that got gradually worse and worse, and ended 
in death. When she was dying, not before, ^le told them it 
had killed her. Had Mr. Thorn3"croft known of it earlier, he 
might have given it up for her sake, for he was a fond hus- 
band. But he had not known of it ; and her death and its 
unhappy cause left upon them a great sorrow : one that could 
not be put away. • The same grief at the practices, and dread 
of what a persistence in them might bring forth, had likewise 
lain on Cyril, and been the secret of his declining to take 
Orders so long as they should be carried on. Mr. Thornycroft 
himself was getting somewhat tired of it, as he tgld Cjual ; he 
had made plenty of money, but Bichard would not hear of 
their being given up. 

Perhaps from habit, more than anything else, Isaac was 
passing on to the back rooms, but Mary Anne arrested him. 

Stay with me a little while, Isaac ; you do not know how 
lonely it is for me now.^’ 

He acquiesced at once. He was ever good-natured and 
kind, and they turned into the sitting-room, she calling a 
servant to take her shawl and bonnet. Hot empty^, as she 
had anticipated, was the parlor, for Bichard was there. 

“I have told Isaac all,” said Mary Anne, briefly. And 
Isaac, in his great compassion, went up to his brother and 
laid his hand on him kindly. 

Poor Bichard Thornj^croft ! His eyes hollow, his brow 
fevered, his hands burning, he paced there still in his terrible 
remorse. A consuming fire had set in, to prey upon him for 
all time. He spoke a- few disjointed words to Isaac, as if in 
extenuation. 

I felt half maddened at Hunter’s duplicity of conduct 
that night. I had warned him that I would shoot him if he 
went again on the plateau, and I thought I was justified in 
doing so. Why did Cyril put the coat on ? ” 

“ Let this be a consolation to you, Bi chard — that you did 
not intend to harm your brother,” was all the comfort Isaac 
could give. 

“Had it been an}^ one but my brother! had it been any 
but my brother I ” was the wailing answer. “The curse of 
Cain rests upon me.” 

Walking about still in his restlessness as he said it ! He 
had never sat, or lain, or rested since leaving the churchyard 
the previous night, but paced about as one in the very depths 


IN THE DOG-CART TO JUTPOINT. 


419 


of despair. Mary Anne slipped the bolt of the door, and 
they began to consult as to the future. At this dread consul- 
tation, every word of which will linger in the remembrance of 
the three during life, Eichard decided upon his plans. To 
remain in the neighborhood of the fatal scene, ever again to 
look upon the Half-moon beach where the dead had lain, he 
felt would drive him mad. In Australia he might in time find 
something like rest. 

I shall leave to-night,” said he. 

To-night ! ” echoed Isaac, in great surprise. 

Eichard nodded. ^^You will drive me to Jutpoint, won’t 
you, Isaac ? ” 

“If you must really go.” 

“ And when shall we see you again ? ” inquired Mary 
Anne. 

“ ETever again.” 

“El ever again ! never again !” she repeated, with a moan. 
“ Oh Eichard, never again ! ” 

It was a shock to Mr. Thornycroft, when he drove home an 
hour later from J utpoint, to find his eldest and (as people had 
looked upon it) his favorite son waiting to bid him farewell for 
ever. They did not disclose to him the fearful secret — either 
that it was Cyril who had died, or that it was Eichard who 
had shot him — leaving that to be revealed later. They said 
Eichard had fallen into a serious scrape, which could only be 
kept quiet by his quitting the place for a few years, and beg- 
ged him not to inquire particulars ; that the less said about it 
the better. Justice Thornycroft obeyed in his surprise, for the 
communication had half stunned him. 

And so they parted. Once more in the middle of the night 
— in the little hours intervening between dark and dawn — the 
dog-cart was driven on from the Eed Court Farm : not bearing 
this time a quantity of valuable lace or other booty, but simply 
a portmanteau of Eichard’ s, with a few articles of clothing 
flung hastily into it. He sat low down in the seat, his hat 
over his brows, his arms folded, his silence stern. And thus 
Isaac, on the high cushion by his side, drove him to Jutpoint 
to catch the early morning train. 


420 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

LADIES DISPUTING. 

The next matter to be disclosed was the marriage of Isaac. 
It was not done immediately. As the reader may have sur- 
mised, the sole cause for his keeping it secret at all had its 
rise in the smuggling. So long as they ran cargoes into the 
vaults of the Red Court Farm, so long did Mr. Thornycroft 
lay an embargo, or wish to lay it, on his sons marrying. The 
secret might be no longer safe, he said, if one of them took a 
wife. 

With the departure of Richard the smuggling would end. 
Without him, Mr. Thornycroft would not care to carry it on : 
and Isaac felt that he could never join in it again, after what 
it had done for Cyril. There was no need: Mr. Thornycroft’s 
wealth was ample. But some weeks went on before Isaac 
considered himself at liberty to speak. 

For the fact w^as this : Richard Thornycroft on his departure 
had extracted a promise from Isaac not to disclose particulars 
until they should hear from him. Isaac gave it readily, sup- 
posing he would write before embarking. But the da3^s and 
the weeks went on, and no letter came : Isaac was at a non- 
plus, and felt half convinced, in his own mind, that Richard 
had repented of his determination to absent himself, and would 
be coming back to Coastdown. With the disclosure of his 
marriage to the justice, Isaac wished to add another disclosure 
— that he had done with the smuggling for ever ; but a fear 
was upon him that this might lead to a full revelation of the 
past ; and, for Richard’s sake, until news should come that he 
was safe away, Isaac delayed and dela\^ed. His inclination 
wmuld have been less willing to do this, but for one thing, and 
that was, that he could not have his wife with him just yet. 
Mrs. Sam Copp, poor meek Amy, had been seized wdth a long 
and dangerous illness. Anna was in close attendance upon 
her ; Mrs. Copp staj^ed to domineer and superintend ; and 
until she should be better Anna could not leave. Thus the 
time had gone on, and accident brought about wdiat intention 
had not. 

May was in, and quickly passing. Pretty nearly two month? 


LADIES DISPUTING. 


421 


had elapsed since Richard^s exit. One bright afternoon when 
Amy was well enough to sit up at her bed-room window, open 
to the balmy heath and the sweet breeze from the sparkling 
sea, Sarah came up and said Mr. Isaac Thornycroft was below. 
Anna sat with her ; the captain and his mother were out. 

May I go down ? asked Anna, with a bright blush. 

I suppose you must, dear,” answered Mrs. Sam Copp, 
with a sigh, given to the long-continued concealment that ever 
haunted her. 

Away went Anna, flying first of all up to her own room to 
smooth her hair, to see that her pretty muslin dress with its 
lilac ribbons looked nice. Isaac, under present circumstances, 
was far more like a lover than a husband : scarcely ever did 
they see each other alone for an instant. This took her about 
two minutes, and she went softly downstairs and opened the 
parlor door. 

Isaac was seated with his back to it, on this side the window. 
Anna, her face in a glow with the freedom of what she was 
about to do, stepped up, put her hands round his neck from 
the back, and kissed his hair — kissed it again and again. 

Halloa ! ” roared out a stern voice. 

Away she shrunk, with a startled scream. At the back of 
the room, having thrown himself on the sofa, tired with his 
walk, was Captain Copp, his mother beside him. The two 
minutes had been sufficient time for them to enter. The cap- 
tain had not felt so confounded since the night of the appari- 
tion, and Mrs. Copp’s eyes were perfectly round with a broad 
stare. 

You shameless hussy ! ” cried the gallant captain, finding 
his tongue as he advanced. What on earth ” 

But Isaac had risen. Risen, and was taking Anna to his 
side, holding her up, standing still with calm composure. 

It is all right, Captain Copp. Pardon me. Anna is my 
wife.” 

Your — what ? ” roared the captain, really not hearing in 
his flurry. 

^^Anna has been my wife since last November. And I 
hope,” Isaac added, with a quiet laugh, partly of vexation, 
partly of amusement, that you will give me credit for self- 
sacrifice and infinite patience in letting her remain here.” 

Anna, crying silently in her distress and shame, had turned 
to him, and was hiding her face on his arm. A minute or two 


422 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


sufficed for the explanation Isaac gave. Its truth could not 
be doubted, and he finished by calling her a little goose, and 
bidding her look up. Captain Copp felt uncertain whether to 
storm or to take it quietly. Meanwhile, he sat down rather 
humbly, and joined Mrs. Copp in staring. 

A ghost one week ; a private marriage the next ! I say, 
mother, I wish I was among the pirates again ! ” 

This discovery decided the question in Isaac’s mind, and he 
went straight to the Hed Court to seek a private interview 
with his father. But he told only of the marriage : leaving 
other matters to the future. Bather to his surprise, it was 
well received : Mr. Thorny croft did not say a harsh word. 

“ Be it so, Isaac. Of business I am thinking we shall do 
no more. And if I am to be deprived of two of my sons — as 
appears only too probable — it is well that the third should 
marry. As to Anna, she is a sweet girl, and I’ve nothing to 
say against her, except her want of money. I suppose you 
considered that you will possess enough for both.” 

We shall have enough for comfort, sir.” 

And for something else. Go and bring her home here at 
once, Isaac.” 

But to this, upon consideration, was raised a decided 
objection at Captain Copp’s. What would the gossips sa}^ ? 
Isaac thought of a better plan. He wanted to run up to 
London for a few days, and would take his wife with him. 
After their departure, Sarah might be told, who would be safe 
to go abroad at once and spread the news everywhere : that 
Miss Chester, under the sanction of her mistress, the captain’s 
wife, had been married in the winter to Isaac Thorny croft. 

Mrs. Copp, whose visit had grown to unconscionable length, 
announced her intention of proceeding with them to London. 
The captain’s wife was quite sufficiently recovered to be left : 
to use her own glad words, she should get well all one way,” 
now that the secret was told. So it was arranged, and the 
captain himself escorted them to J utpoint. 

A gathering at Mrs. Macpherson’s. On the day after the 
arrival in Loudon, that lady had met the three in the crowd 
at the Boyal Academy, and invited them at once to her house 
in the evening. Isaac, who had seen her once or twice before, 
introduced Mrs. Copp, and wdiispered the fiict that Anna was 
no longer Miss Chester, but Mrs. Isaac Thornycroft. 

you’ll come early, mind,” cried tlie hospitable wife of the 


LADIES DISPUTING. 


423 


professor. just an ordinary tea-drinking, whicli^s one of 

tlie few good thiiigs that if the world means to let die out, 1 
doii^t ; but there’ll be some cold meat with it, if anybody 
happens to be hungry. The Miss Jupps are coming, and they 
dine early. Tell your wife, Mr. Thorny croft — bless her sweet 
face ! there’s not one to match it in all them frames — that I’ll 
get in some wedding cake.” 

Isaac laughed. The jostling masses had left him behind 
with Mrs. Macpherson, who was dressed so intensely higli in 
the fashion, that he rather winced at the glasses directed to 
them. However, they accepted the invitation, and went to 
Mrs. Macpherson’s in the evening. 

Miss Jupp had arrived before them ; her sisters were unable 
to come. She was looking a little more worn than usual, 
untih aroused bjj^ the news relating to Anna. Married! and 
Miss Jupp had been counting the days, as it were, until she 
should return to them, for they could not get another teacher 
like her for patience and work. 

Ah, yes : Anna’s teaching days were over ; her star had 
briglitened. As she sat there in her gleaming silk of pearl- 
grey, in the golden bracelets, Isaac’s gift, with the rose blush 
on her cheeks, the light of love in her sweet eyes, Mary Jupp 
saw that she had found her true sphere. 

But, my dear child, why should it have been done in 
secret ? ” she whispered. 

There were family reasons,” answered Anna, I cannot 
tell you now.” 

Since last November ! Dear me 1 And was the marriage 
really not known to any one ? was it quite a secret? ” 

^‘Hot quite. One of Isaac’s brothers was present in the 
church to give me away, and Captain Copp’s wife knew of it.” 

^^Ah, then you are not to be blamed; I am glad to hear 
that,” sighed Mary Jupp. 

“ And now tell me, how is my dear Miss Thornycroft ? ” 
cried Mrs. Macpherson, as the good professor, in his thread- 
bare coat (rather worse than usual) beguiled Isaac away to his 
laboratory. “ I declare I have not yet asked after her.” 

Had Mrs. Macpherson been strictly candid, she might have 
acknowledged to having purposely abstained from asking be- 
fore Isaac. The fact of the young lady’s having got intimate 
with E/obert Hunter at her house, and of its being an ac- 
quaintance not likely, as she judged, to be acceptable to the 
Thorny crofts, had rather lain on her mind. 


424 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


She looks wretched/’ answered Mrs. Copp. 

Wretched ? ” 

She has fretted all the flesh off her bones. You might 
draw her through the eye of a needle.” 

“ My patience ! ” ejaculated Mrs. Macpherson. The pre- 
fessor ’ill be sorry to hear this. What on earth has she fretted 
over ? ” 

‘‘ That horrible business about Eobert Hunter/’ explained 
Mrs. Copp. “The justice has not looked like himself since 5 
and never will again.” 

“ Oh/’ returned the professor’s lady in a subdued tone, feel- 
ing suddenly crestfallen. Conscience whispered that this 
could only apply to the matter she was thinking of, and that 
the attachment had arisen through her own imprudence in al- 
lowing them to meet. She supposed (to use the expressive 
words passing through her thoughts) that the^re had been a 
blow-up. 

“It wasn’t no fault of mine,” she said, after a pause. 
“ Who was to suspect they w’^ere going to fall in love with each 
other in that foolish fashion ? She a school-girl, and he an 
old widower ! A couple of spoonies ! Other folks as well as 
me might have been throwed off their guard.” 

Since Mrs. Macpherson had mixed in refined society she 
had learnt to speak tolerably w'ell at collected times and 
seasons. But when flurried her new ideas and associations 
forsook her, and she was sure to lapse back to the speech of 
old days. 

“ Then there was an attachment between him and Mary 
Anne Thornycroft ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Copp, in a tone of 
triumph. “ Didn’t I tell you so, Anna ? You need not have 
been so close about it.” 

“ I do not know that there was,” replied Anna, “ Mary 
Anne never spoke of it to me.” 

“ Eubbish to speaking of it,” said Mrs. Copp. “ You 
didn’t speak about you and Mr. Isaac.” Anna bent her head 
in silence. 

“ And was there a blow-up with her folks ? ” inquired Mrs. 
Macpherson, not quite courageously yet. “ Miss J upp ! yoa 
remember — I come right off to you with my suspicions at the 
first moment I had ’em — which was only a day or so before 
she went home.” 

“ I don’t know about that ; there might have been or there 


LADIES DISPUTING. 


425 


might not,” replied Mrs. Copp, alluding to the question of the 
‘^blow-up.” “But I have got my eyes ^bout me, and I can 
see how she grieved after him. Why, if there had been 
nothing between them, why did she put on mourning ? ” 
demanded the captain’s mother, looking at the assembled com- 
pany one by one. 

“ She put it on for Lady Ellis,” said Anna. 

“ Oh, did she, though ! Sarah told me that that mourning 
was on her back before ^ver Lady Ellis died. I tell you, I 
tell you also, ladies, she put on the black for Robert Hunter.” 

“ Who put on black for him ? ” questioned Mrs. Macpher- 
son, in a puzzle. 

“ Mary Anne Thornycroft.” 

“ I never heard of such a thing ! What did she do that for?” 

“Why do girls do foolish things?” returned Mrs. popp, 
“ To show her respect for him, I suppose.” 

“ A funny way of showing it ! ” cried Mrs. Macpherson. 
“ Robert Hunter is doing very well where he’s gone.” 

Mrs. Copp turned her eyes on the professor’s wife with a 
prolonged stare. 

“ It is to be hoped he is^ ma’am,” she retorted, emphati- 
cally. 

“ He is doing so well that his coming back and marrying 
her wouldn’t surprise me in the least. The Thornjmrofts 
won’t have no need to set up their backs again him if he can 
show he is in the way of making his fortune.” 

“ Why, who are you talking of ? ” asked Mrs. Copp, after a 
pause and another gaze. 

“'Of Robert Hunter. He has gone and leTt us. Perhaps 
you did not know it, ma’am ? ” 

“ Yes, I did^^ said Mrs. Copp, with increased emphasis. 
“ Coastdown has too good cause to know it, unfortunately.” 

This remark caused Mrs. Macpherson to become meek 
again. “ I had a note from him this week,” she observed. 
“ It come in a letter to the prefessor : he sent it me up 
from his laboratory.” 

The corners of Anna’s mouth were gradually lengthening, 
almost — she could not help the feeling — in a sort of fear. It 
must be remembered that she knew nothing of the fact that it 
was not Robert Hunter who had died. 

“Perhaps you’ll repeat that again, ma’am,” said Mrs. Copp, 
eyeing Mrs. Macpherson in her sternest manner. “ You had a 
iiote from him^ Robert Hunter ? ” 


426 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


Yes, I had, ma’am. Writ by himself.” 

Where was it written from ? ” 

Mrs. Macplierson hesitated, conscious of her defects in the 
science of locality. The professor would know,” she said ; 

I’m not much of a geographer mj^self. Anyway it come 
from where he is, somewhere over in t’other hemispliere.” 

To a lady of Mrs. Copp’s extensive travels round the Avorld 
a dozen times and back again, the words “ over in t’other 
hemisphere,” taken in conjunction with Hobert Hunter’s 
known death and burial, conveyed the idea that the celes- 
tial hemisphere, and not the terrestrial, was alluded to. She 
became convinced of one of two things : that the speaker be- 
fore her was awfully profane, or else mad. 

“ I know the letters were six weeks reaching us,” continued 
Mrs. Macplierson. I suppose it would take about that time 
to get here from the place.” 

Mrs. Copp pushed her chair back in a heat. This is the 
first time I ever came out to drink tea with the insane, and I 
hope it will be the last,” she cried, speaking without reserve, 
according to her custom. Ma’am, if you are not a model of 
profanity, you ought to be in Bedlam.” 

Mrs. Macpherson wiped her hot face and took out her fan. 
But she could give as well as take. It’s what I have been 
thinking of you, ma’am. Do you think you are quite right?” 

I right ! ” screamed Mrs. Copp in a fury. What do you 
mean ? ” 

What do you mean ? — come ! — about me ? ” 

Thafs plain. I never yet heard of a man, who is dead 
and gone, writing back letters to his friends. Who brings 
them ? How do they come ? Do they drop from the skies or 
come up through the graves ? ” 

“Lawk a mercy !” cried Mrs. Macpherson, not catching the 
full import of the puzzling questions. “ They come through 
the post.” 

Mrs. Copp was momentarily silenced. The answer was en- 
tirely practical : it was not given in anger ; nor, as she con- 
fessed to herself, with any indication of insanity. Light 
dawned upon her mind. 

“ It’s the spirits ! ” she exclaimed, coming to a sudden con- 
viction. “ Well! Before I’d go in for that fashionable rub- 
bish ! A woman of any pretension to sense believe in 
them ! ” 


LADIES DISPUTING. 


427 


‘‘ Hang the spirits ! returned Mrs. Macphersou with 
offended emphasis. Pm not quite such a fool as that. You 
should hear what the prefessor says of them. Leastways, not 
of the spirits, poor innocent things, which is all delusion, but 
of them there rapping mediums that make believe to call ’em 
up.” 

^^Then, ma’am, if it’s not the spirits you allude to as bring- 
ing the letters, perhaps you’ll explain to me what does bring 
tliem.” 

‘‘ What should bring them but the post ? ” 

Mrs. Copp was getting angry. ‘^The post does not bring 
letters from dead men.” 

I never said it did. Robert Hunter’s not dead.” 

Robert Hunter isP 

Well, I’m sure ! ” cried Mrs. Macpherson, fanning herself. 

Robert Hunter died last January,” persisted Mrs. Copp, in 
excitement. His unfortunate body lies under the sod in 
Coastdown churchyard, and his poor restless spirit hovers above 
it, frightening the people into fits. My son Sam saw it. 
Isaac Thornycroft saw it.” 

Robert Hunter is not dead,” fired Mrs. Macpherson, who 
came to the conclusion that she was being purposely deceived ; 

he is gone to the East to make a railroad. Hot that I quite 
know where the East is,” acknowledged she, or how it stands 
from this. I tell you all, I got a letter from him, and it was 
writ about six weeks ago.” 

If that lady is not mad, I never was so insulted before,” 
cried Mrs. Copp. I ” 

There must be some mistake,” interposed Mary Jupp, who 
had listened in great surprise. Of herself she could not solve 
the question, and knew nothing of the movements of Mr. 
Hunter. But she thought if he were dead that she should 
have heard of it from his sister Susan. Perhaps it only re- 
quires a word of explanation.” 

I don’t know what explanation it can require,” retorted 
Mrs. Copp. The man is dead and buried.” 

The man is not,” contended Mrs. Macpherson ; he is 
alive and kicking, and laying down a railroad.” 

My son. Captain Copp, was a mourner at his funeral.” 

He wrote me a letter six weeks ago, and he wrote one to 
the prefessor ; and he said he was getting on like a house on 
fire,”; doggedly asserted the professor’s wife. 


428 


THE BED COURT FARM. 


Stay, stay, I pray you,’’ interposed Miss Jupp. There 
must be some misunderstanding. You cannot be speaking of 
the same man.” 

‘^We are!” raved both the ladies, losing temper. It is 
E-obert Hunter, the engineer, who met Mary Anne Thorny- 
croft at my house ; and the two — as I suspected — fell in love 
with each other, which made me very mad.” 

^‘And came dovvn to see her at Coastdown, and Susan 
Hunter was to have come with him, and didn’t. Of course 
we are speaking of the same.” 

“ And I say that he come back from that visit safe and 
sound, and was in London till April, when he went abroad,” 
screamed Mrs. Macpherson. “ He dined here with us the 
Sunday afore he was off ; we had a lovely piece o’ the belly o’ 
salmon, and a quarter o’ lamb and spring cabbage, and rhubub 
tart and custards, and a bottle of champagne, tliat we might 
drink success to his journey. Very down hearted he seemed, I 
suppose at the thoughts of going away ; and the next day lie 
started. There ! Ask the prefessor, ma’am, and contradict 
it if you can.” 

“ I won’t contradict it,” said Mrs. Copp ; I might set on 
and swear if I did, like my son Sam. You’ll persuade me 
next there’s nothing real in the world. Anna Chester — that 
is, Anna Thornycroft — do you tell what you know. Perhaps 
they’ll hear you.” 

Oh, I’ll hear the young lady,” said Mrs. Macpherson, 
fanning herself violently ; ‘‘ but nobody can’t persuade me 
that black’s wLite.” 

Anna quietly related facts, so far as her knowledge extend- 
ed : Robert Hunter had come to Coastdown, had paid his visit 
to the Red Court Farm, and on the very night he was to have 
left for London he was shot as he stood at the edge of the 
cliffs, fell over, and was not found until the morning — dead ! 

Her calm manner, impressive in its truth, her minute rela- 
tion of particulars, her unqualified assertion that it ^vas Robert 
Hunter, and could have been no one else, staggered Mrs. 
Macpherson. 

And he was shot down dead, you say ? ” cried that lady, 
dropping the fan, and opening her mouth very wide. 

He must have died at the moment he was shot. It was 
not discovered ” — here her voice faltered a little — who shot 
him, and the jury returned a verdict of wilful murder again^ 
some person or persons unknown.” 


LADIES DISPUTING. 429 

‘^Was there a inquest?’^ demanded the astonished Mrs. 
Macpherson, on Robert Hunter ? 

Certainly there was. He was buried subsequently in 
Coastdown churchyard. His grave lies in the east corner of 
it, near Mrs. Thornycroft’s.^^ 

^^Now you have not told all the truth, Anna,’^ burst forth 
Mrs. Copp, who had been restraining herself with difficulty. 

You are always shuffling out of that part of the story when 
you can. Why don^t you say that you and Miss Thornycroft 
saw him murdered ? Tell it as you had to tell it before the 
coroner.’^ 

‘Ht is true/’ acknowledged Anna. 

And Miss Thornycroft put on mourning for him, making 
believe it was for Lady Ellis, who died close upon it,” cried 
Mrs. Copp, too impatient to allow Anna to continue. “And 
the w’-orst is, that he can’t rest in his grave, poor fellow, but 
hovers atop of it night after night, so that Coastdown dare not 
go by the churchyard, and the folks have made a way right 
across the heath to avoid it, breaking through two hedges and 
a stone fence that belongs to Lord What’s-his-name — who’s 
safe, it’s said, to indict the parish for trespass. Scores of folks 
saw the gliost. Anna saw it. My son Sam saw it, and he’s 
not one to be taken in by a ghost ; though he did think once 
he saw a mermaid, and will die, poor fellow, in the belief. 
Robert Hunter not dead, indeed ! He was barbarously mur- 
dered, ma’am.” 

“ It is the most astounding tale I ever heard,” cried the 
bewildered Mrs. Macpherson. “What was the ghost like?” 

“ Like himself, ma’am. Perhaps you knew a coat he had ? 
An ugly white thing garnished with black fur?” 

“ I had only too good cause to know it !” shrieked out Mrs. 
Macpherson, aroused at the mention. “ That blessed professor 
of mine bought it and gave it him ; was tooJz m to buy it. 
He’s the greatest duffer in everyday life that ever stood up- 
right.” 

“Then it always appeared in that coat. Eor that was what 
he had on when he w’as murdered.” 

“Well, I never! I shall think we are in the world of de- 
parted spirits next. This beats table-rappings. Why, he 
brought that very coat on his arm when he came on the Sun- 
day to dine with us ! The nights were cold again.” 

“ And the real veritable coat has been lying ever since at 


430 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


the public-house where he was carried to. It’s there now, 
stiff ill its folds,” eagerly avowed Mrs. Copp. “Ma’am, what 
yon saw at your house here must have been a vision — himself 
and the coat too.” 

Mrs. Macpherson began to doubt her own identity. The 
second coat never crossed her mind. It happened that she 
had not looked into the lumber closet after it, and could have 
been upon her oath, if asked, that it was there still. Her hot 
face assumed a strange look of dubious bewilderment. 

“It never surelj^ could have been his ghost that came here 
and dined with us ! ” debated she. “ Ghosts don’t eat salmon 
and drink champagne.” 

“ I don’t know what they might do if put to it,” cried Mrs. 
Copp, sharplj^ “ One thing you may rely upon, man — that it 
was not himself.” 

“ The prefessor doesn’t believe in ghosts. He says there is 
no such things. I’m free to confess that I’ve never seen 
any.” 

“ Neither did I believe before this,” said Mrs. Copp. “ But 
one has to bend to the evidence of one’s senses.” 

How the argument would have ended, and what they might 
have brought it to, cannot be divined. Miss Jupp had sat in 
simple astonishment. That Bobert Hunter had died and 
been buried at Coastdown in January", and that Bobert Hunter 
had dined in that very house in April, appeared absolutely in- 
disputable. It was certainly far more marvellous than any 
feat yet accomplished by the “ spirits.” But Isaac Thorny- 
croft solved it. 

He came in alone, saying the professor was staying behind 
to finish some experiment. Upon which the professor’s wife 
went to see, for she did not approve of experiments when 
there was company to entertain. Mrs. Copp immediately be- 
gan to recount what had passed, making comments of her 
own. 

“ I have come across many a bum-boat woman in my day, 
Mr. Isaac, and I thought they capped the world for impudent 
obstinacy, for they’ll call black white to the face of a whole 
crew. But Mrs. Mac beats ’em. Perhaps you will add your 
testimony to mine — that Bobert Hunter is dead and buried. 
Miss Jupp here is not knowing what to think or believe.” 

Isaac Thornycroft' hesitated. He went and stood on the 
hearth-rug in his black clothes. His face was grave ; his 
manner betrayed some agitation. 


LADIES DISPUTING. 431 

Mrs. Copp, will you pardon me if I ask you generously to 
dismiss that topic ; at least for to-night? ” 

What on earth for ? was the answer of Mrs. Copp. 

The subject was, and is, and always will be productive of 
the utmost pain to my family. We should be thankful to let 
all remembrance of it die out of men’s minds.” 

“ISTow I tell 3"ou what it is, Mr. Isaac ; you are thinking of 
your brother Cyril. Of course as long as he stays away, he’ll 
be suspected of the murder, but I’ve not said so ” 

“ Be silent, I pray you,” interrupted Isaac, in a tone of 
sharp pain. Hear me, while I clear your mind from any 
suspicion of that kind. By all my hope of heaven — by all our 
hope,” he added, lifting solemnly his right hand, my brother 
Cyril was innocent.” 

‘^Well, we’ll let that pass,” said Mrs. Copp, with a sniff. 

Many a pistol has gone off by accident before now, and small 
blame to the owners of it. Perhaps you’ll be good enough to 
bear me out to Miss Jupp that Robert Hunter was shot dead. 

Isaac paced the room. Mrs. Macpherson had come in and 
was listening; the professor halted at the door. Better satisfy 
them once for all, or there would be- no end to it. 

It came to our knowledge afterwards — long afterwards — 
that it was not Robert Hunter,” said Isaac, with slow distinct- 
ness. ^^The mistake arose from the face not having been 
recognisable. Hunter is alive and well.” 

Tlie saints preserve us ! ” cried Mrs. Copp in her dis- 
comfiture. Then why did his ghost appear ? ” 

A momentary smile flitted across the face of Isaac. ^^I 
suppose — in point of fact — it was not his ghost, Mrs. Copp.” 

Mrs. Copp’s senses were three-parts lost in wonder at the 
turn affairs were taking. ^^Who then, was shot down? A 
stranger ? ” 

Isaac raised his handkerchief to his face. I daresay it 
will be known some time. At present it is enough for us that 
it was not Robert Hunter.” 

I knew a ghost could never eat salmon ! ” said Mrs. Mac- 
pherson, in a glow of triumph. 

But wliat about the coat ? ” burst forth Mrs. Copp, as that 
portion of the mystery loomed into her recollection. “ If tliat 
is lying unusable in tlie stables at the Mermaid, Robert 
Hunter could not have brought it with him when he came 
here to dinner.” 


432 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


Clearly. And the ladies looked one at another, half 
inclined to plunge into war again. The meek professor, 
possibly afraid of it, spoke up in his mild way from behind, 
where he had stood and listened in silence. 

“ Mr. Hunter’s coat was to have been sent after him from 
Coastdown ; but it did not come, and I gave him mine. He 
supposed it must have been lost on the road.” 

It was the professor’s wife’s turn now. She could not 
believe her ears. Give away the other coat — when visions 
had crossed her mind of having that disreputable fur taken off 
and decent buttons put on, for his wear the following winter 
when he went off to the country on his ologies ! 

“ Prefessor ! do you mean to tell me to my face that that 
coat is not in the lumber-closet up stairs where I put it ? ” 

“Well, my dear, I fear you’d not find it there.” 

Away went Mrs. Macpherson to the closet, and away went 
the rest in her wake, anxious to see the drama played out. 
Isaac Thornycroft alone did not stir ; and his wife came back 
to him. Her face was white and cold, as though she had 
received a shock. 

“ Isaac ! Isaac ! this is frightening me. May I say what I 


He put his hands upon her shoulders and gazed into her 
eyes as she stood before him, his own full of kindness hut of 
mourning. 

Say as little as you can, my darling. I can t bear much 
to-night.” 

Cyril ! It — was ” 

« Yes.” 

Oh, Cyril ! Cyril ! could he not he saved ? ” 

His faint cry of anguish echoed hers, as he bent his aching 
brow momentarily upon her shoulder. 

I would have given my own life to save his, Anna. I 
would give it still to save another the remorse and pain that 
lie upon him. He put on Hunter^s coat that night, the other 
not wanting it, and was mistaken for him.” 

understand,” she murmured. Oh, what a remorse it 

must be ! ” i i 

How you know all ; hut it is for your ear alone,” he said, 
standing before her again and speaking impressively. “ From 
hencefortli let it he to us a barred subject, the only one that 
my dear wife may not mention to me.” 


DISCLOSING IT TO JUSTICE THORNTCROFT. 433 


She looked an assent from her loving e^yes, ana i-at down 
again as the company came trooping in, Mrs. Macpherson 
openly demanding of her husband how long it would be before 
he learnt common sense, and why he did not cut off his bead 
and give that away. 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 

DISCLOSING IT TO tlUSTICE THORNTCROFT. 

Back at Coastdown. Isaac and his wife were staying at 
tlie Bed Court. Mr. Thornycroft wished them to remain at it 
altogether ; but Isaac doubted. If his sister were to marry, 
why then he would heartily accede ; and Anna could take up 
her position as its mistress — in anticipation of the period when 
she would legally be entitled to it. At present he thought it 
would be better tor them to rent a small house near. 

Mary Anne had received the news of the marriage with 
equanimity — not to say apathy. In the dreadful calamities 
that had overwhelmed her, petty troubles were lost. Cordially 
indeed did she welcome her brother and his wife home, and 
hoped they w'ould remain. To be alone there was, as she truly 
told them, miserable. 

A ship letter had been received from Bichard, written when 
he was nearly half way on his voyage. It appeared that he 
had written on embarking just a word to tell the name of his 
ship, and wdiither it was bound, and had sent it on shore by 
the pilot. Isaac could only suppose that the man had forgot- 
ten to post it. 

His destination was Hew Zealand. Some people whom he 
knew had settled there, he said, and he intended to join them. 
He should purchase some land and farm it ; but he would 
never again set foot on European soil. He supposed he should 
get on ; and he hoped in time some sort of peace would return 
to him. 

I would advise your telling my father the whole, if you 
have not already done so,’’ the letter concluded. It is right 
that he should know the truth about Cyril, and that I shall 

27 


434 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


never come home again. Tell him that the remorse lies very 
heavily upon me; that I would have given my own life ten 
times over — given it cheerful!}' — to save my biother’s. Had 
it been any one but a brother, I should not feel it so deeply. 
I think of myself always as a second Cain. I will write you 
again when we arrive. Meanwhile, address to me at the post- 
office, Canterbury. I suppose you will not object to correspond 
wdth me. Perhaps my father will write. Tell him I should 
like it.” 

Before the arrival of this letter to Isaac, he had been con- 
sulting with his sister about the expediency of enlightening 
their father. His own opinion entirely coincided with Bich- 
ard’s — that it ought to be done* Mr. Thornycroft was in a 
state of doubt about Cyril ; and also as to the duration of 
Richard’s exile, and restlessly curious always in regard to what 
had led to it. 

One balmy June day, when the crop of hay was being got 
in, Isaac told his father. They were leaning upon a gate in 
the four-acre mead, watching the haymakers, who w'ere piling 
the hay into cocks at the farther end of the field. 

Mr. Thornycroft was like a man stunned. 

‘‘Hunter not dead! Cyril lying there, and not Hunter! 
It can’t 6e, Isaac ! ” 

Isaac repeated the facts again, and then urent into details. 
He concluded by showing Richard’s last letter. 

“Poor Dicky! Poor Dicky !” cried the justice, melted to 
compassion. “ Yes, as you say, Isaac, Cyril is in a happier 
place than this — gone to his rest. And Dick — Dick sent him 
there in cruelty. I think I’ll go in if you’ll give me your 
arm.” 

Wonderingly Isaac obeyed. Hever had the strong, upright 
Justice Thornycroft sought or needed support from any one. 
The news must have shaken him terribly. Isaac went with 
him across the fields, and saw him shut himself in his room. 

“ Have you been telling him ? ” whispered Mary Anne. 

“ Yes.” 

“And how has he borne it? Why did he lean upon you 
in coming in ? ” 

“He seemed to bear it exceedingly well. But it must have 
had a far deeper effect upon him than I thought, or he would 
not have asked for my arm.” 

Mary Anne Thornycroft sighed. A little pain, more or 
less, seemed to her as nothing. 


DISCLOSING IT TO JUSTICE THORNYCROFT. 435 

On the following morning Mr. Thornycroft sent for his son. 
Isaac found him seated before his portable desk ; some papers 
upon it. The crisis of affairs had prompted the justice to dis- 
close certain facts to his children, that otherwise never might 
have been disclosed. Richard Thornycroft was not his own 
son, though he had been treated as such. Isaac listened in 
utter amazement. Of all the strange things that had lately 
fallen upon them, this appeared to him to be the strangest. 

I have been writing to Richard,’^ said Mr. Thornycroft, 
taking up some closely-written pages. You can read it ; it 
will save me going over the details to you.” 

Isaac took the letter, and read it through. But his senses 
were confused, and it was not very clear to him. 

^^It seems that I cannot understand it now, sir.” 

‘^Xot understand it?” repeated the justice, with a touch 
of his old heat. “ It is plain enough to be understood. When 
my father died, he left this place, the Red Court Farm, to my 
elder brother, your uncle Richard — whom you never knew. A 
short while afterwards, Richard met with an accident in 
France, and I went over with my wife, to wdiom I was just 
married. We found him also with a wife, which surprised me, 
for he had never said anything of it; she was a pretty little 
Frenchwoman ; and their child, a boy, was a year old. Rich- 
ard, poor fellow, was dying, and of course I thought my chance 
of inheriting the Red Court was gone — that he would natu- 
rally leave it to his little son. But he took an opportunity of 
telling me that he had left it to me ; the only proviso attached 
to it being that I should bring up the boy as my son. He 
talked with me further : things that I cannot go into now : 
and I promised. That is how the Red Court came to me.” 

“ But why should he have done this, sir ? ” interrupted 
Isaac, who liked justice better than wrong. The little boy 
had a right to it.” 

Xo,” said Mr. Thornycroft, quietly. “ Richard had not 
married. his mother.” 

Isaac saw now. There was a pause. 

He said if time could come over again he would have 
married her, or else not have taken her. He was dying, you 
see, Isaac, and right and wrong array themselves in very dis- 
tinct colors then. Anyway, it was too late now, whatever his 
repentance ; and he prayed me and my wife to take the boy 
and not let it be known for the child’s own sake that he was 


436 


THE RED COURT FARM. 


not ours. We both promised ; at a moment like that one 
could not foresee inconveniences that might arise later, and it 
almost seemed as if we owed the compliance, in gratitude for 
the hequeathal of the Eed Court Farm. He died, and we 
brought the boj wdth us to London — he who lias been looked 
upon as your brother Fichard. When people here used to say 
that he w^as more like his uncle Fichard than his father Harry, 
my wdfe would glance at me with a smile.’^ 

^^And his mother?^’ 

^^She died in France shortly afterw^ards. She had parted 
with the boy readily, glad to find he wmuld have so good a 
home. Had she lived, the probabilities are that the secret 
could not have been kept.” 

Hid you intend to keep it always, father ? ” 

‘‘Until my death. Every year as they went on, gave less 
chance of our disclosing it. When you were all little, my wdfe 
and I had many a serious consultation ; for the future seemed 
to be open to some difficulty ; but we loved the boy, and 
neither of us had courage to say, He is not ours; he has no 
legitimate inheritance. Besides, as your mother would sa}^ to 
me, there was alw-ays our promise. It must have been dis- 
closed at my death, at least to Fichard, to explain why you, 
and not he, came into the Fed Court.” 

“ Perhaps his father, my uncle Fichard, expected it would 
be left to him ? ” 

“ Ho, Isaac. We talked of that. Only in the event of my 
having no children of my own would the property have be- 
come his. Fichard will take his share as one of my younger 
children. You are the eldest. I shall at once settle this money 
upon him; you have read to that effect in the letter; so that 
he wdll have enough for comfort whatever part of the wmrld he 
may choose to remain in.” 

Isaac mechanically cast his eyes on the letter, still in his 
hand. 

“ I have disclosed these facts to him now for his own com- 
fort,” resumed Mr. Thornycroft. “ It may bring him a ray 
of it to find Cyril was not his brother.” 

Isaac thought it would. He folded the letter and returned 
it to his father. 

“ There is one thing I wished to ask you, sir, and I may as 
well ask it now. You do not, I presume, think of running 
more cargoes.” 


DISCLOSING IT TO JUSTICE THORNYCROFT. 4o7 

Never again,” said Mr. Tbornycroft. Richard was the 
right hand of it, and he is gone. That’s over for ever. But 
for him it would have been given up before. And there’s 
Kyne besides.” 

Isaac nodded, glad to have the matter set at rest. 

May I tell Mary Anne what you have disclosed to me ? ” 

Yes, but no one else. She may be glad to hear Richard 
is not her brother.” 

How glad, the justice little thought. It seemed to Mary 
Anne as if this news removed the embargo she had self- 
imposed upon her marriage with Robert Hunter. Perhaps she 
had already begun to question the necessity of it — to think it 
a very utopian, severe decision. In the revulsion of feeling 
that came over her, she laid her head down on Isaac’s shoulder 
with a burst of tears, and told him all. Isaac smiled. 

You must tell him that you have relented, Mary Anne.” 

He will not be back for five years.” 

He will be back in less than five months ; perhaps in five 
weeks.” 

She sat upright, staring at him. 

Isaac ! ” 

‘^He will, indeed. Anna had a letter from him yesterday. 
It came to Miss Jupp’s, addressed to ^Miss Chester.’ Busi- 
ness matters are bringing him home for a short while ; per- 
sonal things, he sa^^s, that only himself can do. I wonder if 
he wrote to her in the hope that the information would pene- 
trate to Coastdown ? ” 

She sat in silence, her color going and coming, rather 
shrinking from the merriment in Isaac’s ej^e. Oh, would it 
be so ? — would it be so ? 

‘^Iii that case — I mean, should circumstances bring him 
again to the Red Court Farm — we shall have to disclose pub- 
licly the truth about Cyril, Mary Anne. As well that it 
should be so, and then a tombstone can be put. But it can 
wait yet.” 

As she sat there, looking out on the sparkling sea, a previ- 
sion came over her that this happiness might really come to 
her at last, and a sobbing sigh of thankfulness went up to 
heaven. 

Coastdown went on in its ordinary quiet routine. The 
mysteries of the Red Court Farm were at an end, never again 
to be enacted. Long and perseveriugly did Mr. Superinten- 


438 


THE KED COURT FARM. 


dent Kyne look out for the smugglers ; many and many a 
night did he exercise his eyes and his patience on the edge of 
that bleak plateau ; but they came no more. Old Mr. 
Thornycroft, deprived, he hardly knew how, of his sons, lived 
on at the Eed Court, feeling at times a vacancy of pursuit ; he 
had loved adventure, and his occupation was gone. But the 
land got a better chance of being tilled to perfection now than 
it ever had been. 

Meanwhile the whole neighborhood remained under a clear 
and immutable persuasion that the ghost still walked in 
the churchyard. The new right of road had come to a 
hot dispute ; but Coastdown persisted in using it after night- 
fall, to avoid the graves and their ominous visitor. While 
Captain Copp, taking his glass in the parlor at the Mermaid, 
did not fail to descant upon the marvels of that night, when 
he and that woman-servant of his, who (he would add in a 
parenthesis) was undaunted enough for a she-pirate, saw with 
their own eyes the spirit of Eobert Hunter. And then the 
parlor would fall into a discussion of the love of roving inhe- 
rent in the young Thornycrofts — Cyril lingering away still ; 
Eichard also— perhaps gone to look after him ; and speculate 
upon how long it would be before they returned, and the 
glorious dinners were resumed at the Eed Court Farm. 


THE END. 


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Reduced in price from $2.00 to $1.50 a volume. 

This edition is printed on the finest paper, from large, dear type, leaded, 
Long Primer in size, that all can read, the whole containing neaV Rix 
Hundred full page Illustrations, printed on tinted paper, from designs hy 
Cruikshank, Phiz, Browne, Maclise, McLenan, and other artists, ThefoU 
lowing hooks are each contained in two volumes. 


Our Mutual Friend, Cloth, $3.00 

Pickwick Papers Cloth, 3.00 

Tale of Two Cities, Cloth, 3.00 

Nicholas Nickleby, Cloth, 3.00 

David Copperfield, Cloth, 3.00 

Oliver Twist, Cloth, 3.00 

Christmas Stories, Cloth, 3.00 


Bleak House, Cloth, $3.00 

Sketches by Boz,” Cloth, 3.00 

Barnaby Rudge, Cloth, 3.00 

Martin Chuzzlewit, Cloth, 3.00 

Old Curiosity Shop, Cloth, 3.00 

Little Dorrit Cloth, 3.00 

Dombey and Son, Cloth, 3.00 


The following are each complete in one volume, and are reduced in price 
from $2.50 to $1.50 a volume. 

Great Expectations, Cloth, $T.50 | Dickens’ New Stories, ...Cb'.h, $1.50 

American Notes; and The Uncommercial Traveler, i rn 

Hunted Down; and other Reprinted Pieces, Cloth, 1.^0 

The Holly-Tree Inn; and other Stories, 

Price of a set, in thirty-three volumes, bound in cloth, no 

Full sheep. Library style, 

Half calf, antique, 

« Half calf, full gilt backs, etc., 99.00 


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i .. v.r. . . V. J .. . £ \ ^ U 


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Martin Chuzzlewit, Cloth, 

Old Curiosity Shop, Cloth, 

Christmas Stories, Cloth, 

Dickens^ New Stories,... Cloth, 

A Tale of Two Cities, ...Cloth, 
American Notes and 

Pic^Nic Papers, Cloth, 


2.00 

2.00 

2.00 

2.00 

2.00 


2.00 


CHAKLES DICKENS’ WORKS. 

ILLUSTEATED OCTAVO EDITION. 

Reduced in price from $2.60 to $2.00 a volume, 

This edition is printed from large type^ double column f octavo page, each 
book being complete in one volume, the whole containing near Six Hundred 
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Our Mutual Friend, Cloth, $2.00 

Pickwick Papers, Cloth, 2.00 

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Groat Expectations, Cloth, 2.00 

Lamplighter’s Story,. ...Cloth, 2.00 

Oliver Twist, Cloth, 2.00 

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Little Dorrit, Cloth, 2.00 

Dombey and Son, Cloth, 2.00 

Sketches by “ Boz,” Cloth, 2.00 

Price of a set, in Black cloth, in eighteen volumes, $36.00 

Full sheep. Library style, 45.00 

Half calf, sprinkled edges, 55.00 

' ** ** Half calf, marbled edges, 62.00 

Half calf, antique, 70.00 

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THE “NEW NATIONAL EDITION.” 

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strongest and most substantial manner. 

Price of a set, in Black cloth, in seven volumes, $20.00 

Full sheep. Library style, 25.00 

Half calf, antique, 30.00 

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CHEA*P SALMON PAPER COVER EDITION. 

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David Copperfield, 25 

Martin Chuzzlewit, 25 

Old Curiosity Shop, 25 

Oliver Twist, 25 

American Notes, 25 

Great Expectations, 25 

Hard Times, 25 


A Tale of Two Cities,. 
Somebody’s Luggage,,. 
Message from the Sea,. 

Barnaby Budge, 

Sketches by “Boz,”.... 


25 

25 

25 

25 

25 


Christmas Stories, 25 

The Haunted House, 85 

Uncommercial Traveler, 25 

A House to Let, 25 

Perils of English Prisoners, 25 

Wreck of the Golden Mary, 25 

Tom Tiddler’s Ground, 25 

Our Mutual Friend, 35 

Bleak House, 35 

Little Dorrit, 35 

Joseph Grimaldi, 50 

The Pic-Nic Papers, 50 

No Thoroughfare 10 

Hunted Down, ... 25 

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Mugby Junction and Dr. Marigold’s Prescriptions, 25 


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50 

50 

50 

50 

50 

75 

50 


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Con Cregan, 75 

Davenport Dunn, 75 


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.... 75 

Countess of Rudolstadt, 

75 

First and True Love, 

.... 75 

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.... 50 

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.... 1 50 

Do. cloth, 

.... 1 75 


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Above in cloth at $1.00 each. 

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1 50 


50 


Mad Monkton, 

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Sister Rose, 25 


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Romance of the Harem, 75 


Confessions of a Pretty Woman, 75 

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The five above books are also bound in one volume, cloth, for $4.00. 
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the Earl’s Heirs, 1 50 

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Trevlyn Hold, 1 50 

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Adelaide’s Oath, 1 50 


Elster’s Folly, 

1 

50 

St. Martin’s Eve, 

1 

50 

Mildred Arkell, 

Shadow of Ashlydyat, 

1 

50 

1 

50 

Oswald Cray, 

1 

50 

Verner’s Pride, 

1 

50 

Above are each in paper 

coyer. 

or 

The Mystery, 



Above are each in paper 

cover. 

or 

The Channings, 


00 

Above are each in paper 

cover. 

or 

Red Court Farm, 


75 

Orville College, 


60 

The Runaway Match, 


50 


The Lost Will, and the Dia- 
mond Bracelet, 50 

The Haunted Tower, 50 


A Life’s Secret, 50 

each one in cloth, for $1.00 each. 

Aurora Floyd, 75 

;ach one in cloth, for $1.50 each. 

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William Allair 25 

A Light and a Dark Christmas, 25 


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Andree de Taverney, 

The Chevalier, 

Forty-five Guardsmen, 

The Iron Hand, 

Camille, ‘‘The Camelia Lady," 


Count of Monte Cristo, 1 

The Iron Mask, 1 

Louise La Valliere, 1 

Adventures of a Marquis, 1 

Diana of Meridor, 1 

The Three Guardsmen, 75 

Twenty Years After, 75 

Bragelonne, 75 

The Conscript. A Tale of War, 1 50 


The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


Edmond Dantes, 75 

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Count of Moret, 50 j George, 


Man with Five Wives, 

Twin Lieutenants, 

Annette, Lady of the Pearls,.... 

Mohicans of Paris, 

The Marriage Verdict, 

The Corsican Brothers, 

50 I Buried Alive, 


1 00 
1 00 
1 00 
1 00 
1 00 
1 00 
75 
75 
1 50 


75 

75 

60 

50 

50 

50 

25 


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Nothing to Say, cloth, ^5 


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The Red Track 75 

Pirates of the Prairies, 75 


Trapper’s Daughter,, 
The Tiger Slayer,.... 

The Gold Seekers, 

The Rebel Chief, 

The Smuggler Chief,. 
The Border Rifles, ... 


75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 


GOOD BOOKS FOR EVERYBODY. 

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Life of Don Quixotte, 1 00 

Wilfred Montressor, 1 50 

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Lola Montez’ Life and Letters, 1 50 


Currer Lyle, the Actress, 1 50 

Secession, Coercion, and Civil 

War, 1 50 

The Cabin and Parlor. By J. 

Thornton Randolph, 1 50 

Memoirs of Vidocq, the noted 
French Policeman 


Lady Maud; or, the Wonder of Kingswood Chase. By Pierce Egan, 1 
Above are each in paper cover, or each one in cloth, for $1.75 each. 


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Lord Saxondale,. 1 00 

Count Christoval^ 1 00 

Rosa Lambert, 1 00 


Mary Price, 1 00 

Eustace Quentin, ] 00 

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Banker’s Daughter, 1 

Kenneth, 1 

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The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


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May Middleton, 75 

Duke of Marchraont, 75 

Massacre of Glencoe, 75 

Queen Joanna; Court Naples, 75 

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Ciprina; or. Secrets of a Pic- 

'' turo Gallery,. 50 

Life in Paris, 50 

Countess and the Page, 50 

Edgar Montrose, 50 

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 


St. Ronan’s Well, 50 

Kenilworth, 50 

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The Betrothed, 50 

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Quentin Durward, 50 

50 


Red Gauntlet,. 

The Talisman, 50 

Woodstock,. 

Highland Widow, etc.,. 


50 
50 

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Count Robert of Paris, 50 

The Black Dwarf and Legend 

of Montrose, 50 

Castle Dangerous, and Sur- 
geon’s Daughter, 50 

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Life of Jack Sheppard, 

Guy Fawkes, 

Above in 1 vol., cloth, $1. 

The Star Chamber, 

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Life of Davy Crockett, 

Life of Grace O’Malley, 

Life of Henry Thomas, 


•5. 


60 

75 

75 

75 

50 

50 

50 

50 

25 


Tower of London, 1 50 

Miser’s Daughter, 1 00 

Above in cloth $1.75 each. 

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WAR NOVELS. BY HENRY MORFORD. 

Shoulder-Straps, 1 50 I The Days of Shoddy. A Ilis- 

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Leah ; or tho Forsaken,. 
Banditti of tho Prairie,. 


... 50 

... 75 

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Salathiel, by Croly, 75 

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Aristocracy, 75 


Inquisition in Spain,. 

Flirtations in America 

The Coquette, 

Thackeray’s Irish Sketch Book, 

AVhitehall, 

Tho Beautiful Nun, 

Father Clement, paper, 

do. do. cloth, 

Miser’s Heir, paper, 

do. do. cloth, 


Mysteries of Three Cities, 

Genevra, 

New Hope; or, tho Rescue, 

Nothing to Say, 

The Greatest Plague of Life,.. 

Clifford and the Actress, 

Two Lovers, 

Ryan’s Mysteries of Marriage, 

The Fortune Hunter, 

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The Romish Confessional 

Victims of Amusements, 

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Violet, 

Montague; or, Almacks, 

Tangarua, a Poem 

Alieford, a Family History,.. . 


75 

1 50 
75 
75 

1 50 

50 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

50 

50 

50 

50 

50 

60 

50 

50 

1 00 

1 00 
50 
50 

I 00 
50 


Books sent, postage paid, on Receipt of the Retail Price, by 
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HUMOROUS AMERICAN WORKS, 

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Major Jones’ Tnivols, 

Simon Suggs’ Adventures and 

Travels, 

Major Jones’ Chronicles of 

Pineville, 

Polly Peablossom’s Wedding,., 
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Big Bear of Arkansas 

Western Scenes; or, Life on 

the Prairie, 

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Pickings from the Picayune,... 

Stray Subjects, Arrested and 

Bound Over, 

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New Orleans Sketch Book, 75 


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My Shooting Box, 

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Peter Ploddy, 

Adventures of Captain Farrago, 
Major O’Regan’s Adventures,.. 
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Sol. Smith’s Theatrical Jour 

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Aunt Patty’s Scrap Bag, 

Percival Mayberry’s Adven- 
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Yankee Letters, 

Adventures of Fudge Fumble,. 

American Joe Miller, 

Following the Drum, 


75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 


Henrietta Temple,, 

Vivian Grey, 

Venetia, 


DISRAELI’S WORKS. 


50 

75 

50 


Young Duke, 

Miriam Alroy, 

Contarina Fleming,, 


75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

75 

50 

50 


50 

50 

50 


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Tho Watchman, 1 50 

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Tho Lawyer’s Story, 1 60 


Diary of an Old Doctor,. 

Sartaroe, 

The Three Cousins, 


The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 


1 50 
1 50 
1 50 


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Stories of Waterloo, 75 I 


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The above five works on the French, German, Spanish, Latin, and 
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Valentino Vox, in paper, 75 


do. finer edition, cloth, 2 00 


The Sisters, 

The Steward, 

Percy Effingham, 


75 

75 

75 


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Each one full of Illustrations j hy Felix 0. C, Darhy, and hound in Cloth. 


High Life in New York, by 

Jonathan Slick, cloth, 1 75 

Judge Halliburton’s Yankee 
Stories. Illustrated, cloth,... 1 75 
Major Thorpe’s Scenes in Ark- 
ansaw. 16 illustrations, cloth 75 
The Big Bear’s Adventures and 
Travels. 18 engravings, cloth 1 75 


Modern Chivalry, cloth, 1 75 

Harry Coverdale’s Courtship 

and Marriage, cloth, 1 75 

The Swamp Doctor’s Adven- 
tures in the South-West. 14 
illustrations, cloth, 1 75 


Major Jones’ Courtship and 


Travels. Illustrated, cloth, 1 75 
Simon Suggs’ Adventures and 
Travels. Illustrated, cloth, 1 75 
Piney Wood’s Tavern; or, Sam 

Slick in Texas, cloth, 1 75 

Sara Slick, the Clockmaker, 

cloth, 1 75 

Humors of Falconbridge, 1 75 

Neal’s Charcoal Sketches, 21 

illustrations, 2 50 

Major Jones’ Scenes in Georgia, 

cloth, 1 75 

Captain Priest’s Adventures,... 1 75 


DOW’S PATENT SERIMTONS. 


Dow’s Patent Sermons, 1st 

Series, $1.00 ; cloth, 1 50 

Dow’s Patent Sermons, 2d 
Series, $1.00 ; cloth, 1 50 


Dow’s Patent Sermons, 3d 

Series, $1.00; cloth, 

Dow’s Patent Sermons, 4th 
Series, $1.00; cloth, 


1 50 
1 50 


MISS ELLEN PICKERING’S WORKS. 


The Grumbler, 

Marrying for Money, 

Poor Cousin, 

Kate Walsingham, ... 
Orphan Niece, 


75 

75 

50 

50 

50 


Who Shall be Heir?. 

The Squire, 

Ellen Wareham, 

Nan Darrel, 


88 

38 

38 

38 


THE SHAKSPEARE NOVELS. 

By Robert Folkstone Williams. 

The Secret Passion, 1 00 I Shakspeare and his Friends,... 1 00 

The Youth of Shakspeare, 1 00 1 

The three above Books are also published complete in one largo octavo 
volume, bound in cloth. Price Four Dollars. 


1^ Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETEESON & BEOTHEES’ PUBLICATIONS. 11 


USEFUL BOOKS FOE ALL. 

The Ladies* Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners. By Miss 

Leslie. Cloth, full gilt back, $1 75 

The Ladies* Complete Guide to Needlework and Embroidery. With 

113 illustrations. Cloth, full gilt back, 1 75 

Ladies* Work Table Book, plates, cloth, gilt, 1 60 

Lady*s and Gentleman*s Science of Etiquette, and Guide to Perfect 
Manners. By Count D’Orsay and Countess de Calabrella, with 

their portraits, 50 

The Laws and Practice of the Game of Euchre. By a Professor,.... 1 00 

Lardner’s One Thousand and Ten Things Worth Knowing, 60 

Knowlson’s Complete Farrier, or Horse Doctor, 25 

Knowlson’s Complete Cow or Cattle Doctor, 25 

The Complete Kitchen and Fruit Gardener, 25 

The Complete Florist and Flower Gardener, 25 

Arthur’s Receipts for Preserving Fruits, etc., 12 

Coal and Coal Oil; or, the Geology of the Earth. Being a Popular 
Description of Minerals and Mineral Combustibles. By Eli Bowen, 
Professor of Geology, 1 75 


CAPT. MAEEYATT’S WOEZS. 


J acob Faithful,... 50 

Japhet in Search of a Father,.. 50 

Phantom Ship, 50 

Midshipman Easy, 50 

Pacha of Many Tales, 50 

Frank Mild may. Naval Officer, 50 

Snarleyow, 50 


Newton Forster, 50 

King’s Own, 60 

Pirate and Three Cutters, 60 

Peter Simple, 50 

Percival Keene, 60 

Poor Jack, 50 

Sea King, 60 


LIVES OF HIGHWAYMEN. 


Life of John A. Murrel, 50 

Life of Joseph T. Hare, 50 

Life of Monroe Edwards, 50 

Life of Jack Sheppard, 50 

Life of Jack Rann, 50 

Life of Dick Turpin, 50 

Life of Helen Jewett, 50 

Desperadoes of the New World, 50 

Mysteries of New Orleans, 50 

The Robber’s Wife, 50 

Obi; or. Three Fingered Jack, 50 

Kit Clayton, 50 

Life of Tom Waters, 50 

Nat Blake, 50 

Bill Horton, 50 

Galloping Gus, 50 

Life <fc Trial of Antoine Probst, 50 

Ned Hastings, 50 

Eveleen Wilson, 50 

Diary of a Pawnbroker, 50 

Silver and Pewter, 50 

Sweeney Todd, 50 

Life of Grace O’Malley, 50 


Life of Davy Crockett, 50 

Life of Sybil Grey, 50 

Life of Jonathan Wild, 25 

Life of Henry Thomas, 25 

Life of Arthur Spring, 25 

Life of Jack Ketch, 25 

Ninon De L’Enclos, 25 

Lives of the Felons, 25 

Life of Mrs.Whipple, 25 

Biddy Woodhull, 25 

Life of Mother Brownrigg, 25 

Dick Parker, the Pirate, 25 

Life of Mary Bateman, 25 

Life of Captain Blood, 25 

Capt. Blood and the Beagles,.. 25 
Sixteen-Stringed Jack’s Fight 

for Life, 25 

Highwayman’s Avenger, 25 

Life of Raoul De Surville, 25 

Life of Rody the Rover, 25 

Life of Galloping Dick, 25 

Life of Guy Fawkes,..., 75 


Life and Adventures ofVidoc(^, 1 50 


1^* Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


12 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


EXCITING SEA TALES. 


Adventures of Ben Brace, 


75 

Gallant Tom, 

. 50 

Jack Adams, the Mutineer,.... 


75 

Harry Helm, 

. 50 

Jack Ariel’s Adventures, 


75 

Harry Tempest, 

. 50 

Petrel ,* or. Life on the Ocean,. 


75 

Rebel and Rover, 

. 50 

Life of Paul Periwinkle, 


75 

Man-of-War’s-Man 

. 50 

Life of Tom Bowling, 


75 

Dark Shades of City Life, 

. 25 

Percy Effingham, 


75 

The Rats of the Seine, 

25 

Cruising in the Last War, 


75 

Charles Raneford, 

. 25 

Red King, 


50 

The Iron Cross, 

. 25 

The Corsair, 


50 

The River Pirates, 

. 25 

The Doomed Ship, 


50 

The Pirate’s Son, 

. 25 

The Three Pirates, 


60 

Jacob Faithful, 

. 50 

The Flying Dutchman, 


60 

Phantom Ship, 

. 50 

The Flying Yankee, 


50 

Midshipman Easy, 

. 50 

The Yankee Middy, 


60 

Pacha of Many Tales, 

. 50 

The Gold Seekers, 


60 

Naval Officer, 

. 50 

The King’s Cruisers, , 


50 

Snarleyow,.. 

50 

Life of Alexander Tardy, 


50 

Newton Forster, 

. 50 

Red Wing, 


50 

King’s Own, 

. 50 

Yankee Jack, 


50 

Japhet, 

. 50 

Yankees in Japan, 


50 

Pirate and Three Cutters, 

. 60 

Morgan, the Buccaneer, 


50 

Peter Simple, 

. 50 

Jack Junk, 


50 

Percival Keene, 

. 50 

Davis, the Pirate, 


50 

Poor Jack, 

. 50 

Valdez, the Pirate, 


50 

Sea King, 

. 50 

GEORGE LIPPARD’S GREAT BOOKS. 


The Quaker City, 

1 

60 

The Empire City, 

. 75 

Paul Ardenheim, 

1 

50 

Memoirs of a Preacher, 

. 75 

Blanche of Brandywine, 

1 

50 

The Nazarene, 

. 75 

Washington and his Generals; 



Washington and his Mon, 

. 75 

or. Legends of the American 



Legends of Mexico, 

. 50 

Revolution, 

1 

50 

The Entranced, 

. 25 

Mysteries of Floren ce, 

1 

00 

The Robbers, 

. 25 

Above in cloth at $2.00 each. 



The Bank Director’s Son, 

. 25 


MILITARY NOVELS. BY BEST AUTHORS. 

With Illuminated Military Covers, in five Colors. 


Charles O’Malley, 75 

Jack Hinton, the Guardsman, 75 

The Knight of Gwynne, 75 

Harry Lorrequer, 75 

Tom Burke of Ours, 75 

Arthur O’Leary, 75 

Con Cregan, 75 

Kate O’Donoghue, 75 

Horace Templeton, 75 

Davenport Dunn, 75 

Jack Adams’ Adventures, 75 

Valentine Vox, 75 

Twin Lieutenants, 75 

Stories of Waterloo, 75 

The Soldier’s Wife, 75 

Guerilla Chief, 75 


The Three Guardsmen, 75 

Twenty Years After, 75 

Bragelonne, Son of Athos....... 75 

Forty-five Guardsmen, 75 

Tom Bowling’s Adventures,... 75 

Life of Robert Bruce, 75 

The Gipsy Chief, 75 

Massacre of Glencoe, 75 

Life of Guy Fawkes, 75 

Child of Waterloo, 75 

Adventures of Ben Brace, 75 

Life of Jack Ariel, 75 

Wallace, the Hero of Scotland, 1 00 

Following the Drum, 50 

The Conscript, a Tale of W ar. 

By Alexander Dumas, 1 50 


Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETEESON & BEOTHEES’ PUBLICATIONS. 13 


EUGENE SUE’S WOEKS. 


Wandering Jew, 1 50 

Mysteries of Paris, 1 50 

Martin, the Foundling, 1 50 

Above in cloth at $2.00 each. 


First Love, 50 

Woman’s Love, 50 

Female Bluebeard, 60 

Man-of-War’s-Man, 50 


Life and Adventures of Raoul De Surville, 25 

J. F. SMITH’S WOEKS. 


The Usurer’s Victim; or, 


1 Adelaide Wal degrave; or, tho 



Thomas Balscombe, 

75 

1 Trials of a Governess, 


75 

EEVOLUTIONAEY TALES. 



The Brigand, 

50 

Legends of Mexico,. 


50 

Ralph Riinnion, 

50 

Grace Dudley; or, Arnold at 



Seven Brothers of Wyoming,.. 

50 

Saratoga, 


50 

The Rebel Bride, 

50 

Knights of the Golden Circle,.. 


50 

The Flying Artillerist, 

50 

The Guerilla Chief, 


75 

Old Put; or. Days of 1776, 

50 

The Quaker Soldier, paper, 

1 

50 

Wau-nan-gee, 

50 

do. do. cloth, 

1 

75 

EMEESON : 

BENNETT’S WOEKS. 



The Border Rover, 

1 50 

Bride of the Wilderness, 

1 

50 

Clara Moreland, 

1 50 

Ellen Norbury, 

1 

50 

Viola; or Adventures in the 


The Forged Will, 

1 

50 

Far South-West, 

1 50 

Kate Clarendon, 

1 

50 

The above are each in paper cover, or in cloth, prica $1.75 each. 


The Heiress of Bellefonte, and 


I Pioneer’s Daughter and the 



Walde- Warren, 

75 

1 Unknown Countess, 


75 

T. S. AETHUE’S WOEKS. 



The Lost Bride, 

50 

Tho Divorced Wife, 


50 

The Two Brides, 

50 

Pride and Prudence, 


50 

Love in a Cottage, 

50 

Agnes; or, the Possessed, 


50 

Love in High Life, 

50 

Lucy Sandford, 


50 

Year after Marriage, 

50 

The Banker’s AVife, 


50 

The Lady at Home, 

50 

The Two Merchants, 


50 

Cecelia Howard,.... 

50 

Trial and Triumph, 


50 

Orphan Children, 

50 

The Iron Rule, 


50 

Debtor’s Daughter, 

50 

Insubordination; or, the Shoe- 



Mary Moreton, 

50 

maker’s Daughters, 


50 


Six Nights with the Wa,shingtonians. With nine original Illustra- 
tions. By Cruikshank. One volume, cloth $1.75 ; or in paper, ...$1.50 
Lizzy Glenn; or, the Trials of a Seamstress. Cloth $1.75; or paper, 1.50 

MILITARY AND ARMY BOOKS. 


Ellsworth’s Zouave Drill, 

25 

U. S. Light Infantry Drill, 

Tho Soldier’s Companion, 

25 

U. S. Government Infantry & 


25 

Rifle Tactics, 

25 

The Soldier’s Guide, 

25 

CHEISTY & WHITE’S SONG BOOKS. 


Christy & AVood’s Song Book,. 

10 

Serenader’s Song Book, 

10 

Melodeon Song Book, 

10 

Bud worth’s Songs, 

10 

Plantation Melodies, 

10 

Christy and AVhite’s Complete 


Ethiopian Song Book, 

10 

Ethiopian Melodies. Cloth, 1 

00 


Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


14 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS* PUBLICATIONS. 


MRS. GREY’S WORKS. 


Cousin Harry, 1 50 

The above are each in paper cover 

Gipsy’s Daughter, 50 

Old Dower House, 50 

Belle of the Family, 50 

Duke and Cousin, 50. 

The Little Wife, 50 

Lena Cameron, 50 

Sybil Lennard, 50 

Manoeuvring Mother 50 

Baronet’s Daughters, 50 

GREEN’S WORK! 

Gambling Exposed, 1 50 

The Gambler’s Life, 1 50 


Above are each in paper cover, or 


The Little Beauty, 1 50 

or in cloth, price $1.75 each. 

Young Prima Donna, 50 

Hyacinthe, 25 

Alice Seymour, 25 

Mary Seaham, 75 

Passion and Principle, 75 

The Flirt, 75 

Good Society,, 75 

Lion-Hearted, 75 

ON GAMBLING. 

The Reformed Gambler, 1 50 

Secret Band of Brothers, 1 50 


one in cloth, for $1.75 each. 


DR. HOLLICK’S WORKS. 

Dr. Hollick’s great work on the Anatomy and Physiology of the 
Human Figure, with colored dissected plates of the Human Figure, 1 50 
Dr. Hollick’s Family Physician, a Pocket Guide for Everybody, 25 

BOOKS BY CELEBRATED AUTHORS. 


Elsie’s Married Life, 75 

Leyton Hall. By Mark Lemon, 75 

The Brigand. Bjj^'ictor Hugo, 75 

Crock of Gold. By Tupper,... 75 

Twins and Heart. By Tupper, 75 

The Orphans and Caleb Field,. 50 

Moreton Hall, 50 

Bell Brandon, 50 

Sybil Grey, 50 

Eemale Life in New York, 50 

Agnes Grey, 50 

Legends of Mexico, 50 

Eva St. Clair, 50 

Life of General McClellan, 50 

Diary of a Physician, 50 

The Emigrant Squire, 50 

The Monk, by Lewis, 60 

The Beautiful French Girl,... 50 

The Admiral’s Daughter, 50 

The American Joe Miller, 50 

Grace Dudley; or, Arnold at 

Saratoga, 50 

Ella Stratford, 50 

Edgar Montrose, 50 

Josephine, by Grace Aguilar,.. 50 

The Oxonians, 50 

The Roue; or, the Hazards of 

Women, 60 

Robert Oaklands ; or, the Out- 
cast Orphan, 50 

Abednego, the Money Lender,. 50 


Jenny Ambrose, 50 

Aunt Margaret’s Trouble, 25 

The Grey "Woman, 25 

The Deformed, 25 

Two Prima Donnas, 25 

The Haunted House, 25 

Tom Tiddler’s Ground, 25 

The Mysterious Marriage, 25 

Jack Downing’s Letters, 25 

The Mysteries of a Convent,... 25 

Rose Warrington, 25 

The Iron Cross, 25 

Charles Ransford, 25 

Life of Archbishop Hughes,.... 25 

Life of General Butler, 25 

Life of General Meade, 25 

The Mysteries of Bedlam, 25 

The Nobleman’s Daughter,... 25 
Madison’s Exposition of Odd 

Fellowship, 25 

The Book of Ghost Stories,.... 25 

Ladies’ Science of Etiquette,... 25 

The Valley Farm, 25 

The Abbey of Innismoyle, 25 

Gliddon’s Ancient Egypt 25 

Philip in Search of a Wife, 25 

Father Tom and the Pope, in 
cloth gilt, 75 cents, or paper, 50 

Hollick’s Family Physician,... 25 

Rifle Shots, 25 

The Skilful Housewife, 25 


Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETEESON & BEOTHEES’ PUBLICATIONS. 15 


PETEESONS’ ILLUMINATED STOEIES, 

Each Book being in an ^^Illuminated Cover,” in five color?, full of 
Illustrations, and are the most saleable series of 25 cent books ever printed. 


Rebel and Rover, 25 

First Love, 25 

The Two Merchants, 25 

A Year After Marriage, 25 

Love in High Life, 25 

The Divorced Wife, 25 

The Debtor’s Daughter, 25 

The Lady at Home, 25 

Mary Moreton, 25 

The Two Brides, 25 

Dick Parker, 25 

Jack Ketch, 25 

Mother Brownrigg, 25 

Galloping Dick, 25 

Mary Bateman, 25 

Raoul de Surville 25 

Life of Harry Thomas, 25 

Mrs. Whipple & Jesse Strang’s 

Adventures, 25 

Jonathan Wild’s Adventures,.. 25 
Lives of the Felons, 25 


Ninon De L’Enclos’ Life, 25 

The Iron Cross, 25 

Biddy Woodhull the Beautiful 

Haymaker, 25 

The River Pirates, 25 

Dark Shades of City Life, 25 

The Rats of the Seine, 25 

Mysteries of Bedlam, 25 

Charles Ransford, 25 

Mysteries of a Convent, 25 

The Mysterious Marriage, 25 

Capt. Blood, the Highwayman, 25 

Capt. Blood and the Beagles, 25 

Highwayman’s Avenger, 25 

Rody the Rover’s Adventures,. 25 
Sixteen-Stringed Jack’s Fight 

for Life, 25 

Rose Warrington 25 

Ghost Stories, 25 

Arthur Spring, 25 

The Valley Farm, 25 


SIR E. L. BTJLWER’S NOVELS. 

25 
25 


The Roue, 50 I The Courtier,, 

The Oxonians, 50 1 Falkland, 


EXPOSITIONS OF SECEET OEDEES, ETC. 


Odd Fellowship Exposed, 1.3 

Sons of Malta Exposed, 13 

Life of Rev. John Maffit, 13 


Dr. Berg’s Answer to Arch- 
bishop Hughes, 

Dr. Berg on Jesuits, 


13 

13 


EIDDELL’S MODEL AECHITECT. 

Architectural Designs of Model Country Residences. By John Riddell 
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Peterson’s Complete Coin Book, containing fac-similes of all the 
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New Card of Stamp Duties, approved by the last Acts of Congress, 
on a large card. OfiScial Edition, 15 


l^“ Books sent, postage paid, on receipt of the Retail Price, by 
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16 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


LIEBIG’S WORKS ON CHEMISTRY. 

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GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN’S SPEECHES. 

Union Speeches. In 2 vols., each 25 I Downfall of England,. 10 

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REV. CHAS. WABSWORTH’S SERMONS. 

America’s Mission, 25 I A Thanksgiving Sermon, 15 

Thankfulness and Character,.. 25 I Politics in jfTeligion, 12 

Henry Ward Beecher on War and Emancipation, 15 

Rev. William T. Brantley’s Union Sermon, 15 

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MAMMOTH COLORED FASHION PLATES 

Ahead of all others. These plates are engraved on steel, twice the usual size, and 
contain six figures. They will be superbly colored. Also, a pattern, from which a 
Dress, Mantilla, or Child’s Dress can be cut out, without the aid of a mantua-maker. 
Also, several pages of Household and other receipts : in short, everything interest- 
ing to Ladies. 


80PEBB PBEMIOM ENCBftVtMGI 

To every person getting up a Club for 1869 will be sent GRATIS, a copy of our 
new and splendid Mezzotint for framing, (size 24 inches by 16,) “ The Star of Beth- 
lehem,” after the celebrated master-piece, by Gorome, the famous French artist. 
This is the most desirable premium ever offered. For large clubs, as will be seen 
I>elow, an extra copy will be sent in addition. 


TERMS — Always in Advance: 


One Copy, for one year $ 2 00 

Three Copies, for one year 5 00 

Four Copies, for one year 0 00 

Five Copies, for one year, (and one to getter up of club) 8 00 

Eight Copies, for one year, (and one to getter up of club) 12 00 

Fourteen Copies, for one year, (and one to getter up of club) 20 00 

Address, Post-paid, 


CHARLES J. PETERSON, 

No* 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 
Specimens sent to those wishing to get up clubs. 



A NEW BOOK BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS. 



[STAKE. 


BY MRS. AM S. STEPHENS. 

AUTHOR OF “fashion AND FAMINE,” “THE SOLDIER^S ORPHANS,” 
“ DOUBLY FALSE,” “ THE HEIRESS,” “ THE GOLD BRICK,” 
“the old HOMESTEAD,” “THE REJECTED WIFE,” 

“ SILENT STRUGGLES,” “ MART DERWENT,” 

“ THE wife’s secret,” ETC., ETC. 

Price $1.75 in Cloth; or, $1.60 in Paper Cover. 

“It is only a few months since we chronicled the publication of 
* Doubly False’ by this popular authoress, but although that book created 
an enthusiasm which perhaps no former work of hers ever surpassed, wo 
find the volume before us in many respects worthy of higher praise than 
its predecessor. 

“ In point of dramatic effect and thrilling interest, ' Mabel’s Mistake’ is 
fully its equal, and regarded in an artistic point of view, we think it su- 
perior both in its range of characters and power of portrayal. The 
heroine, Mabel, is one of the most beautiful conceptions we remember in 
any book, and the leading assistant dramatis personce are drawn with a 
vigor and vividness that make them fitting auxiliaries. The character 
of James Harrington, in sacrificing whom along with herself to what she 
believed duty, Mabel’s mistake consisted, is a noble, manly creation, that 
stands out before us as clearly as the men moving about us daily. 

“We shall not attempt any delineation of the plot — enough to say that 
among other prominent personages, the characters of the old father in his 
luxurious selfishness, the crafty quadroon, contrasted with the two young 
lovers, Lena and Ralph, are all managed with consummate skill. 

“ From the first page to the last the interest never flags, and the plot 
will keep the most experienced novel reader in suspense to the denoue- 
ment. There are descriptions of scenery which are exquisite pictures in 
themselves, and passages of pathos and strength that are perfect poems, 
though unrhymed. There are exhibited all the diverse phases of life 
which Mrs. Stephens excels in portraying, from the quiet farm-house to 
the stately halls of wealth and fashion, and all the changes sd artfully 
managed that the varied parts are wrought into one beautiful and com- 
plete whole.” 

We have also just issued a new and uniform edition of the other 
popular works by Mrs. Ann S. Stephens. Their names are as fol 
lows. Price of each, $1.50 in paper cover ; or $1.75 in cloth. 


FASHION AND FAMINE, 

THE OLD HOMESTEAD, 

THE GOLD BRICK, 

DOUBLY FALSE, 

THE REJECTED WIFE. 


THE SOLDIER’S ORPHANS, 

THE WIFE’S SECRET, 

SILENT STRUGGLES, 

MARY DERWENT, 

, THE HEIRESS. 

Copies of any of the above books 


For sale by all Booksellers, 
will be sent free of postage, on receipt of price, by 


T B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 


Publishers, No. 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 


A NEW BOOK BY MRS. E. 0. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. 



BY MRS. EMMA B. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. 


AUTHOR OF “the LOST HEIRESS,” “THE DESERTED WIFE,” 

“the missing bride,” “the discarded daughter,” 
“the fatal marriage,” “the bridal eve,” 
“retribution,” “the motiier-in-law.” 

Price $1.75 in Cloth; or $1.50 in Paper Cover. 


FROM THE PREFACE OF “FAIR PLAT.” 

“In offering this work in book form to my readers, I call it Fair 
Play, with some reference to ^ Foul Play,’ and for these reasons : 

“ This work was first published in the New York Ledger, and copied in 
the London Journal, in 1865 and 1866. 

Foul Play’ is first published in 1868, and with so much resemblance 
to this work, as might lead any reader of both stories to suspect a plagia- 
rism on the one hand or the other. 

“This resemblance maybe found in that which has been called ^tho 
most beautiful and original part’ of each story, and which describes the 
strange situation of the shipwrecked lovers on the solitary island — a sit- 
uation, I thought, quite unique in literature. 

“Now, while I utterly disclaim all intention to charge the distinguished 
authors of the last-published of these works with any real *fonl play* 
I feel ‘Compelled to state the order in which the two stories first appeared, 
to secure for myself and my own work, fair play. 

“EMMA D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. 

“ Prospect Cottage, Georgetown^ October Zlst, 1868.” 


T. B. Peterson &, Brothers have also just issued a new and uniform edi- 
tion of the other popular works by Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth. Their 
names are as follows. Price of each $1.50 in paper; or $1.75 in cloth. 

MRS. SOUTHWORTH’S OTHER WORKS. 


How He Won Her 1 50 

Fair Play 1 50 

Fallen Pride 1 50 

The Victim Bride 1 50 

The Widow’s Son 1 50 

Bride of Llewellyn... 1 50 

The Fortune Seeker 1 50 

All worth Abbey 1 50 

The Bridal Eve 1 50 

The Fatal Marriage 1 50 

Love’s Labor Won 1 50 

Deserted Wife 1 50 

The Gipsy’s Prophecy 1 50 


The Lost Heiress 1 50 

The Two Sisters 1 50 

The Three Beauties 1 50 

Vivia; or, the Secret of Power.. 1 50 

Lady of the Isle 1 50 

The Missing Bride 1 50 

Wife’s Victory 1 50 

The Mother-in-Law 1 50 

Haunted Homestead 1 50 

Retribution 1 50 

India; Pearl of Pearl River 1 50 

Curse of Clifton 1 50 

Discarded Daughter 1 50 


Each of the above books are published in paper cover at $1.50 each, 
or each on^ is issued in cloth at $1.75 each. 


For sale by all Booksellers. Copies of any of the above books will bo 
lent to any one, free of postage, on receipt of price by the Publishers, 

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, 

No. 306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 



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PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES. INC. 

Ill Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Twp., PA 16066 
(412)779-2111 

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